Poetry by Maryann Hurtt

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Oh, Darling Stand By Me

his fingers are stubs now
and you remember
the cancer sign is a crab 
and how we all lose
pieces of ourselves
but for now
you light a smoke
and your fingers become his

he inhales and exhales
waits for another breath
maybe his last

and we will (try
so hard)
not be afraid




​
​Last Chance Melody

two days before he gets up
and leaves
after eighty plus earth bound years
my grandpa tells me
Get out my ol’ mouth harp

it sits in a nest 
of worn Kodaks
recording a now too long life

I crank the sick bed
prop pillows
as his at one time wife
mother of seven kin leans close
then sings old woman
cracked notes
to his wheezy harp tune breaths

a harmony of sorts
dances the air
hymns and tunes played back
in Depression time before
lead and zinc chewed lungs
and booze held sway

listen now
you might find yourself believing
for this little while anyway
in torn and tattered
stick around love

two doors down
Death waits patiently
hums along to a few hymns
knows not to disturb

​

Maryann Hurtt is retired after thirty years working as a hospice RN with before and after cook, bus girl, museum guide, teacher aide, and library assistant gigs. She is drawn to stories of resiliency in hard times. Once Upon a Tar Creek Mining for Voices (Turning Plow Press) came out in 2021. Tar Creek has been called “the worst environmental disaster no one has heard of.” She is passionate its stories are remembered and heeded.