James Bredin Poems
Death With Dignity Please
If I die and I will and I don't know where or when or why,
And I can't do anything about it as I wait to say goodbye,
But it would be nice to arrange the whole dying affair,
Have death with dignity, even though religious groups don't dare.
I suppose I'm lucky, not to know when, where or why I'll die,
And you are too so maybe we should get ready to say goodbye,
You and I and us in the photographs will soon be long gone,
We can't plan for our untimely deaths because they say, it's wrong.
But the Swiss and those in Oregon have death with dignity,
Ennis will forever be enshrined in my mind,
A small mark on the map from another place and time.
Memories dimmed by many years as though cut with a knife,
First seventeen years of love and laughter in my life.
In a town bowed down by poverty struggling to survive,
Back lanes of half-door houses waiting someone to arrive.
Narrow winding streets full of friends and farmers’ horses,
Pompous priests dressed in black who always walked on water,