pressing the button

i find her sitting
upright in her room,
the channel
permanently on
no channel
because
the batteries
have died
and no one seems
to care
one way or
the other what's
on t.v.
the blurred
static of snow
blows
in a mindless blizzard.
it's not unlike
turning on
the set for the pet
dog, or cat,
to give the animals
noise and company
when you leave
the house.
how much you
miss the movement
of her hand,
the ability to simply
press a button.
that is still
unmeasured. that
grief is in waiting.
as she is
towards death.