A Difficult Pause - Trudie Shannon

Across the wooden table, her elbows crooked
Her head cupped in one hand
We talk, of this and that, the past, the present.
Out of the blue she says

I hope he dies before me.

The words seem harsh, hard, cold
As if she no longer cares
I am speechless, have no idea how to fill the void.
In this uncomfortable pause we avoid each others eyes.
Then she says

If I die first,
They will put him in a home.

She says it without emotion
But she is so emotionally charged,
I weep on her behalf.
Truth is all too often
So hard to swallow.

Trudie Shannon