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David Dalton: ‘Final Patient’

David Dalton

Oct 30 2021

1 mins

Final Patient

My sphygmo lid closes for the last time;
Stiff black bulb, who gave strength to my left hand,
Lay yourself down. No more pumping for you.
My peppy replacement will bring her own,
But it’s electric! That should be a crime—
Moving parts are best, each well-crafted brand
Comfortably balanced; permanently new.
And yes! I’m ignoring you, telephone.

Everything is quiet. Another ghost
Pops down beside me, to poke at my soul;
I didn’t always get it right, but most
Of the time I did—why bother to mull?
More books than one man could possibly read.
Now this desk must be cleared. Drawers emptied.

David Dalton

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