Sunset

I read a book about the process of dying.
The oxygen rate diminishes.
The kidneys and liver shut down.
The body swells as unfiltered toxins stagnate.
Breathing slows and grows shallow.

As birth has a recognizable rhythm, with variation,
Even so death.

My friend sleeps now,
Without REM, without flinching.
Her skeletal arms are swollen,
Her feet puffy.

I sat in silence with her for a time,
Then put my hands on her feet,
And prayed the prayer of blessing
That my dad prayed over us nightly,

That I sing over every guest as they depart.