for Timi

Now you bundle him up for safe transport
to a place he doesn’t want to go,
none of us wants to go.

But as carefully as placing a fresh egg in a cardboard cradle,
you prepare to move him,
his ravaged lungs straining to welcome every breath.

No one wants this leave taking.

You hope this buys him some time,
some small comfort,
this caretaking in the new place,
something you can do for him in this moment,

as he looks around the spring green hills he has long loved,
as he may or may not say goodbye.