I thought a lot about death and dying before I finally came up with this poem. I didn't take it any way I thought it would go, but here it is nonetheless. Enjoy or don't. I hope it's the former.
04/16/2010: Death poem
"Untitled"
Does it hurt to die?
I want to ask you
But that painful smile on your withered mouth
Makes me think twice about opening mine
I want to think instead
Of you in that blue velveteen recliner
Sitting on legs that could walk
Telling stories in a voice I could hear
Now drowned by the hole in your throat
And the iron lung
Now your skin
Is a papery white daffodil bloom
They used to take you out into the sun
And pull the gown up to your knees
Like you could feel the warmth
On your paralyzed legs
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