Beauna

Later, you forgot our names,
and everything. It was miserable
visiting you in those sheer
passages smelling of urine and iodine.
Dad wouldn’t let me see.
I sat in the hallway hearing
addled groans of others’ agony,
the long lament testifying
that these souls are in anguish.
You flew into unaccountable rages.
You starved yourself.
You died with so little dignity.
I don’t want to grow old,
but I don’t not want to grow old.
If it weren’t so mean.
If it wasn’t barbaric.