I woke to her weeping
He declined quickly
Particular – although they’d likely say ‘undiagnosed’ now
Proud, traditional too

Farmers are like that, I recall seeing the droughts
I woke to her weeping
The land had once been parched, now so was he
Unable to swallow, to eat

Finally unable to speak, to say goodbye
Reduced to hand signals, waving and smiles
I woke to her weeping
Arose to help move dress, clean, turn him – “rinse&repeat”, each day

He only wanted us – he knew, loved – sent nurses away
It was hard to see him in such a terrible way
Then one day he left with the dawning; and
I woke to her weeping