She sat next to his bed
and held his hand
and listened to his breathing.
She thought of something he’d once said,
“Beauty is in the almost.”
The best this world has to offer
is a yearning for the next unknowable thing.
Beauty is in the takeoff,
the lean in,
the wind-up,
the loosening of the cork,
the turning of the key,
the blueprints,
the hickory smoke,
the expanding womb,
the knock,
the ring,
the wakeful night.
It’s fleeting
because attainment is the death knell of a dream.
You must wallow in the wanting.
She’d understood then.
Now she sat here,
holding his hand,
listening to his breathing,
and thinking about how
his next unknowable thing
would be the last.
Drinkers with Writing Problems 
Reblogged this on xdayschocolate.
Sandra, thanks for posting this. It’s beautiful.
“…attainment is the death knell of a dream.” That is a line for any poet to envy.
That’s kind of you to say. Now that I’ve gotten around to reading some of your essays I feel particularly flattered.
Thank you! It means a lot coming from someone who has written as much quality work as you have!
Reblogged this on College Hustle and commented:
Fantacy
Reblogged this on Putthewhiskeydown.