Countdown

On her deathbed,

Grandma grins at her old dog Ben lying next to her

Having another of his daily jerk-dreams

Infinity, Time’s silent one,

Listens in

Layered generations hover about the bed

Like moths around an oil lamp

Grandchildren hug legs and skirts of mothers

Sensing the haunting quiet of sadness

Grandma squints at the disquieting movement

Moist flutterings eyelids

Pulsing jaws

Gripping of the Bible

Wringing of a hankie

A teen’s twisting a Rubik’s cube

A Blue Jay calls out from a distant tree

No one hears

There is radiance in her last moment

Like backlit dandelion-fluff taking flight from its origin

She expels her last breath

A weak, but determined expression on her face

Resistance rising into a new iteration

Ben’s head lifts

His eyes drift from the bed to the ceiling

His paw rests on Grandma’s hand

Countdown over