Rosa

We drive through mountains
over flat lands,
past goats and herds of cows
to see you
in the hospital.

You are as spunky, clever, and funny
as ever
surrounded by your family
and tubes, machines, wires.

I can't not cry, wanting to bring you only light
and I'm sorry I don't know how.
I am humbled
by how you can be so fragile
and so strong
all at once.

We talk about fundraising
and the next step
in the hallway
with hushed voices
while you rest.

In the lobby, we visitors hug one another
and I'm so aware of standing
on my legs
and the tears come again.

On the way home,
we sing prayers for you
and chase the waxing moon
between dark peaks.