peculiar thing, death

watched a roll call of names,
a tv scroll, of those a year had lost,

faces locked,
and frozen in the window of the screen,

held in transit,
captured in-between.

imagined the imprint
that we leave,

the microscopic traces,
that we leave,

and as the pictures faded
and left me be,

i pondered death, the peculiar thing.

how things are, and then are not,
how we can hear, then not hear,
when at first so real and so clear,
then so remote, so gone,…so far from here.

when presence has texture
shape and form,
scent,

then spaces, air,
and missing moment.

i watched the swifts collecting food
invisible on the wing,
and pondered death,not sadly
but with a fond belief in the ways of things.

peculiar thing, death

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

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