Waiting for Necessity to Speak V

Sometimes we sense that even the dead are connected to the fabric of life. My wife tells me that a graduate student came to her office and told this story, which he claims is true. An old man died at 3:47 AM in Mercy Hospital of Pittsburgh. His brother, who had had Alzheimer’s disease for five years, was asleep in a different hospital on the other side of town. The floor nurse recorded in his chart at 3:47 AM that the Alzheimer’s patient said his brother’s name twice. Meanwhile in a different city a thousand miles away, the student was studying for an exam. The young man looked up to see his grandfather, the man who had just died, standing in the middle of the room. The old man looked thin, but he had a gentle smile on his face. “Still studying, little professor?” he asked. The young man nodded, amazed at what he was seeing. “I have to go now,” the old man said and disappeared.


Filed under: Michael Simms, Poetics, Prose

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Michael Simms is the founder of Autumn House Press and its editor-in-chief from 1998-2016. Currently he is the editor of Vox Populi, an online magazine of poetry, politics and nature. His most recent collections of poems are American Ash and Nightjar, both published by Ragged Sky Press. He lives in Pittsburgh. Find more at: www.michaelsimms.info