FEEDING AMELIA

FEEDING AMELIA

I knew you’d come
was the first thing that she said
as she lay
cancer hollowed on her bed

On the second visit
Robin and I read her the poem
the one you usually get to read
only after they are dead

On the third visit
I brought mushroom soup
from the good restaurant across town
and fed it to her, spoon by gentle spoon

A last meal in three courses