Tom Savage
Nothing, happened.
Communing with the moon
Gets harder in the middle of your life
Than it was when young.
What songs will death sing now
And in which or whose voice:
Tenor, baritone, bass, or soprano?
To restrict death to some kind of bel canto
Seems to shortchange the part
Set aside for him/her.
It’s possible that several composers
Have to be consulted.
Anything but a requiem
Seems required or aspired to.
Explore the moment just before
If not right after.
Eternal lines venture toward me
Only to shatter and dissolve.
Does death lie?
Certainly on some occasions
Truth is sidestepped
Rather than confronted,
Which may be the usual pattern.
Death to some may appear handsome.
But the charming demeanor
Passes quickly
Once its application
Has achieved its aim
To take its audience in thrall.
Wisdom bows, enters, and exits quickly
While death, is newly incarnated as song.
Falling in love with death
Is something poets are said to do.
Not me. I love life.
And will enjoy it as long as I can.
Still, dancing with death
Is something we do everyday.
When death oversleeps,
No obituaries get written.
It’s time to leave self-pity behind
But we never do. It clings
Even as it stings.
Making death human
Is what we do all the time
As long as we still live
The promise of departure
Makes things clearer
As long as it is properly announced
Before it goes in its glow
Or darkness, whichever
The shadow may choose to ascribe.
Words require some delay.
As long as they sing,
You still have something to bring to light and breath
That overcomes death
For a long or a little time.
Give your word
To the words
And they will continue
Whether in death or in life.
Written while watching Death Takes A Holiday by Thomas Meehan, Peter Stone, and Maury Yesto
