i
I never thought i'd come to see death
as a cock-teaser, tantalising me
with “maybe tomorrow”,
“maybe next month”,
“maybe just before christmas”.
It's a full-time commitment:
cycles of anticipation
followed by complete collapse.
Six years ago, my doctor
pronounced the dread sentence;
“If...” he said, “then...” he said.
Since then, I inhabit
a subjunctive world.
ii
I share a toddlers view of death;
how many sleeps in “forever”?
This is such a profound poem. So true... promises, promises.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're not - waiting for death. But when you can't do ... much of anything ... and you hurt ... what else is there? Is it still possible to be happy? To laugh? I hope so.