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Santa Sometimes...
What a demanding day it had been
Today they had redone their wills.
Thanks goodness for the use of a car
Theft of theirs had increased their ills.
How much longer would they have it
Living out of town as they did
With Death, the great spectre, looming close
And not going away as they bid.
What turmoil, despair, desperation
They lived through each day and each night.
His wife would be dead soon, they both knew,
Despite all their attempts to fight.
Meanwhile he injected her stomach
In an effort to retain meals,
He drove her for chemo and x-rays-
Every day he had need of his wheels.
Concerning the huge deadly blood clot
That crippled his own lower limb
He had no more time to baby it
He had to appear full of vim.
When insurance stopped paying for this car
And that, it seemed, was tomorrow,
How was he going to manage then?
He could never beg, nor borrow.
With red-rimmed eyes and unsteady step
He set to his chores with new dread
Summoning a reassuring smile
For his dying wife in their bed.
When the door bell rang and he answered,
His sister stood there- gift in glove.
It was much money from family
"Santa sometimes comes early, love."
