Early Morning Sun

The dimmed night dragged by,
As we sat by the bed.
The room lit, inspite of the hour,
never dark: lights at all times.

We sat by the bed,
watching the frail body.
The crumpled, scratchy covers,
shrouding her form.

It hurt to watch the frail body;
every breath a strain.
Formerly so strong,
now weak, and sad.

Every breath strained,
rasping in her constricted throat.
We sat in silence together,
all of us knowing. Waiting.

The constricted breathing,
grated on our nerves, our hearts.
Waiting for the breath to stop,
dreading the breath stopping.

Hearts bursting with pain, fear:
would she survive? Could she?
"If she makes it through tonight"
he'd said, "the worst is over".

Her survival was all that mattered.
Our focus was completely on her,
oblivious, as the clock's hands crawled,
like snails across its face.

Together our focus broke,
at the first creeping of fingers.
We finally looked at eachother,
and a smile played about our lips.

Fingers of the dawn;
rays of morning sunlight.
As the brightness slid across her covers,
The room was filled with sighs.

Morning sunlight,
brought speech and smiles.
The room now filled with light,
and we with relief and love.