Fold the flowered nightgowns,
limp now, without form.

The same for robes
and soft sleeping caps,

warm when chemo
stole rich crown of hair.

Put away scribbled notes,
lists of movies unseen.

Discard nurses’ numbers;
pack away the hospital bed.

Resign to the image,
the last morning, the

leave-taking, the lifting
into the silence above us.

Hold tight the laughter,
the unstoppable love.