At The End

            For Bill Rooney

He was so old his bones seemed to swim in his skin.

And when I took his hand to feel his pulse

I felt myself drawn in.  It was as faint

as the steps of a child

padding across the floor in slippers, 

and yet he was smiling.

I could almost hear a river

running beneath his breath.

The water clear and cold and deep.

He was ready and willing to wade on in.