Her relatives sit in folding chairs around the bed; their coats and hats are piled on the recliner. I check to make sure my name badge is pinned to my blouse and then whisper, "Coffee’s on the table.."
Someone cracks open a window. A chair is moved to make space for the parish priest.
on her breast
quiets. . .
As the sacrament begins, I notice robins on the bare branches of a crab apple crowned with snow.
sorting sugar packets
I thought I knew