He Delivers Beds
Last night I took my in-laws' bed apart
and moved it into their garage.
Now Pedro is at the door holding a clipboard,
wearing navy hospital scrubs
with his name in script,
the truck behind him, breathing hard.
“Where do you want it?” are
his first words.
It takes an hour to set up the
Pedro shows me how to work
The head part can go up 90 degrees,
the legs can be raised independently.
He hands me the control.
"He's going to die in that bed."
The thought escapes me.
"I guess you hear that a lot."
Pedro points to the places to sign.
“Call this number when you don’t need it
any more,” are his last words.
About the Author: Michael Mark is a hospice volunteer and long distance walker. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Gargoyle Magazine, Gravel, Paterson Literary Review, Poet Lore, Spillway, Rattle, The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, Sugar House Review, Tar River Poetry, and other nice places. His poetry has been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes and the 2015 Best of the Net. Click here to know more about the author.