Smell the funk: neglected, unwashed body
See the lank long lusterless hair hanging
     over face, head bowed down
          on yesterday’s knees
world come undone—
could be you, could be me
     daughter, son, dear dear one

be aware:
     this being may be with you
           in your last moment
     those features the last you perceive 
     reaching out to hold your hand
           with support
           with comfort
           with compassion
     sharing with heart of empathy
           your dying breath