Reading Sunday’s paper was quite depressing 

Learning about wars, scammers, the president’s 14 pound weight gain – was all quite distressing 

Prices increase 

Complaining comes with ease 

And oh, the piece on refugees 

Even the weather report: next weekend, it’s gonna be 90 degrees 

And I read about “complicated” family and neighbor and co-worker dynamics 

At least at Michael’s there’s a sale on ceramics 

I turned to the obituaries 

Oddly enough, I find them comforting

To know that we won’t forever be refugees

That the battle against ever-expanding waistlines will end 

That wars and inflation will eventually suspend 

But aaah! On this side, cancer lurks 

And motor vehicle accidents hurt

Mental health is as elusive as a politician in stealth 

It seems we pass our ailments down 

It’s always the same kinds of things that take people out 

Generations 

I closed the paper finally 

Not getting any sort of explanation

When my neighbor tapped at the door

She herself is fighting cancer 

Her TV was in front of her house on the curb

She said, “I can’t take any more of the banter!”

“But look, I decided to be a planter!”
She walked me over to her morning glories 

Bursting happily 

Her flower beds were lined with obituaries 

She looked at me and said, “Oh dear, don’t move about so sadly”

“We all come back as fairies”

The wind blew and some flower petals took flight

The sun was bright 

We shared some coffee inside her house 

Where she breathed her last breath, light as an ounce 

She left me her diary 

I started reading it instead of the Sunday paper

She wrote down her prayers: the plight of millions of strangers:

Sickness, war, starvation

She wrote at the end, “God, thank You for Your commitment to Your creation

“To become a morning glory, I’m waitin’”