A gentle death (was delivering news), Rev 1

[Tiger the Lion]

Hey asc, just a few notes on my first couple of reads...

Silent sentries flank the long hall,
faces averted, their disposition clouded.
In the middle plays the youngest
of her family, fourth maybe the fifth generation;
I am unsure. I like the opening stanza but only upon subsequent reads. "her" feels vague even with the generations explanation that follows - just my ear 

They laugh, skip, dance even mere yards typo?
from where she lay dying.

Small, awkward but undaunted as would prefer and rather than the comma between small and awkward
I cannot hold the inexorable; 
I cross to her room.

Even more are here, older, don't like "even" as a line start
packed tight, embers that surround
her with their warmth
as hers lessens. her's

Her husband sits by her head, "head" sounds blunt. "Side" maybe?
his gaze fixed, uncertain, hand
tight on his cane.
Beside is the empty chair
for me.

Her eyes of nearly ninety years
soften as I hold her black hand in my white hand,
and anchor myself.  Relief comes as I hold
her and her husband in my mind, 
all others receding dimly.  I disclose
what she already knows.
They all do. for me the piece gets too philosophical from here on.

Sooner than expected 
she becomes still.  Her hand in mine yet,
I tell her husband
"She has passed".
Looking nowhere, eyes empty -- he asks no one
"And now what will I do?"

I reach inside but find
nothing
except that which does not grow back,
leaving me less than I was. 
Forward I must grow -- as forward I turn to go.

The children continue to play 
in the warm dappled sunlight
filtered through the paneled window.

She has her victory.  Her calm
inscrutable wisdom not lost
but manifest in all those who 
surround, accept and forgive 
and comfort even me.

[quick note:  this was brought to mind by an earlier poem (that seems to have disappeared) that was about giving negative news.]

I think it is a common theme and could be pared down for impact.

Paul