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Monday, March 8, 2010

The Day of Your Death



The day of your death
You stuck your head into an oven,
After first closing all the doors, windows;
Sealing yourself off, to the cries of your children,
Shutting out the processes of the entire world;
The good wishes of priests;
The long enduring of wedding presents;
The unexpected bonus of an unknown day.


When the horizon began to shrink away from you,
You did not flinch.
When dark clouds crowded the field of your vision.
You did not falter.
When the brain itself began to unplug from the body,
You did not question if god had forsaken you;
You already knew god was dispassionate
Toward the tribulations or joys of his creatures.


Perhaps you saw yourself as only a crack,
In the mildewed fabric of society;
For they are still looking for cracks today
In all the words you left behind you.

2 comments:

  1. Is this describing the death of Sylvia Plath? Wonderfully written...with a saddening tone, a wondering tone--just enough question, just enough reason.

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  2. so well written.....so tender toward those for whom the world has boiled over and can't be put back in the pot....I can sympathize...with them and your sentiments here

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