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    . . .a thin triangular flap of a heart valve. . . a small book usually having a paper cover . . . a medical lit-art e-journal from The Permanente Press
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Spread the Word

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Paul Rousseau, MD

Contributor's Note

This poem originates from the death of my wife. There are so many things from her death that I can’t ever forget. But we all experience death, and we all retain moments we can’t forget. It’s a part of being human, and it’s a part of loss.

I Can’t Forget

Vol 6: Iss 2, Poetry

I can’t forget the sound of dying, and

 I can’t forget the stillness of death, and 

  I can’t forget my daughters’ weeping, and

   I can’t forget the chaplain’s words, and 

    I can’t forget the weight of ashes, and

     I can’t forget why I can’t forget.