At Bed's Edge

At Bed's Edge

Will I find a good morning?

Night was fitful and long

I turn to that which I take

to bed

to kitchen and living room

They fit in spaces of my walker

my phone and glasses

I think of grandparents

who picked up their glasses

before joining day

but they didn't have a cell phone

or the case I made to protect mine

They had no interruptions at night

no quick openings of glowing screens

to add news from around the world

to their brains that slowly drain

Their proper twin beds

were separated by a night stand

a glass of water and small lamp

Their radio was at the entrance

just inside the front door

far from their bedroom

a large wooden cabinet

made of mahogany

Were Grandpa's first stumblings

to turn it on and wait for tubes

to glow in order to bring worlds

into their lives or was silence

and permutations of first conversations

what started his day with Grandma

Age brings questions

with few answers

My grandchildren

will have questions

for me in 50 years

Consider them answered

as the last breaths drain

from failing lungs

as chemical thought

burns out

the last of years

when loneliness tugs

at painful joints

Your inventions will trail

like two parts of Bach

that disappear

one at a time

Rest well

Barry G. Wick