full circle

although her brown eyes
flicker with awareness,
she can't speak,
she can barely swallow.
her teeth are out.
she can't move her arms or legs.
her hands
are wrapped in socks
so that she doesn't scratch
herself.
there is baby food on her
chin,
a cup of water with a straw
in it on the sideboard
that she sips on from time
to time
when the nurse comes in.
there's nothing on the wall.
no pictures,
no tv. no music.
no flowers. this could
be anyone's room,
anyone's bed and will
be for someone else
once she passes.
this is where it ends,
not unlike how it began.
an infant
in a crib depending on
others for everything.