Diary from an AIDS Ward,1984

Never knew a thing about the Saint

Vincent, hearty name

a comforting stew

in a violent December

the first ward to welcome

the men who would become

my children until mothers

chose God over religion

love over blame

woke up from the stupor of shame

that worst of all AIDS complications

Jealous mothers

returned afraid

awake that I might take their place

after one found me in bed

putting love into lesions

fields of killer berries blue

heralds of final breaths

our bodies gently threaded in tenderness

word got around

the best doctors looked away

nurses never saw a thing

as we snuggled, giggled

careful not to unplug anything

the joy of Popsicles

the birthday cakes

the friends who came

the ones who didn’t

hard conversations

thinking about the daddy

you wish you had

made you mad

so many orphans of the living

be the daddy, don’t dream the daddy

daddy’s not coming

be the daddy you wish you had

don’t get jealous

get alive and live to the bone

of all the love you have to give

send your neighbor a prayer, a chocolate, a kiss

don’t miss the daddy, be the daddy

tell the bedtime story

we can all tuck each other in

be the daddy to the boy dying

days before you

become the breath you barely have

be the orchestra section of another’s life

the days endless with machines, medications

necessary interrogations

interruptions of sleep by front line miracle dreams

I wear my Reverend Mother disguise

so I can stay through the night

You make me promise

they’ll honor the DNR

no matter how you beg

whatever look of despair

comes into your eyes

You know what you want

while you still own your mind

When mama finally arrives

you’re still alive

I kiss you every time

always the chance of good-bye

The AIDS wards

Where lifetimes were lived

in moments.

Where Death wrapped us in the mercy

of seeing life for the very first time

the immortality

of Love threading body to soul

with tenderness.

Never gone too far.