"I come from mountain stock, and I can confirm
that death slithers in like the fog at Craggy Mountain.
Surrounds the bed on his time, pulls himself up,
and sweeps over the trails, hills, and valleys of the body
until it covers the mouth."
Gerry Dincher CC The Last Day of Hospice, 9 Days before Christmas A small bird, legs tucked tight, wings askew. Mouth open, as if waiting for nourishment, a quick breath of relief. Low moans...
