Somewhere West of Here

The man and woman who came together to

give me life are dying somewhere west of here.

Maybe not today or tomorrow, but sooner 

than I can even imagine, living as I am so far 

away from them. Gone are the days of village 

life with multigenerational families living

in the same small hamlet, maybe on the 

same street or even in the same house.

We have reached even further back in

time to a nomadic existence, a pitching

of our metaphorical tents on the sandy

wastes of a barren and lifeless culture.

I wouldn’t even know who to blame for 

such a thing but somewhere west of here

my parents are living out their last days 

and I am just waiting for the awful news.

***