A Neat Conclusion

There was a neatness

In all things with you.
A smallness grown large
And long lasting, beginning
In a house spaceless and
Encouraging of everything in its place.

And, so it continued
Becoming life itself
With all of us in our place
Tidied one by one
Down through the years,
Safe in our thinking,
Unable to see.

But, now we are watching

As slowly your smallness
Grows so large you cease to be
Our mother so neatly folded
Into this hospital chair.

Sat fragile as a bird,

Waiting for God
I can feel your beating heart
Distanced from where I stand;
Too close to touch,
Too far to love,
The talk too small.

Soon we will leave here

For that empty house
And empty it still further
Of the little that was us
To make a final neatness
And create an echoing largeness,
Filling black bags and boxes
Of all that was you.