Wishbones

Tiny she was, and dark

Within the white sheets

Frail and tired from the cancer.

Do everything for me she said.

So when her heart stopped

I climbed into her bed

Put my hands on her chest

And pushed.

Pop. Pop pop pop. Pop.

Not the harsh snap the chicken breastbone makes

When my brother and I make a wish and pull

But a gentle staccato.

Oh, that I had made a wish for every rib:

For timely goodbyes

For freedom from pain

For a peaceful journey.

When we were done with her

I removed her rings

And passed them to the muscular hand of her son.

I sat with him in silence

My hands still holding the popping of her ribs.

Fawn Hoener

Visiting Nurses Association

1st place