When Is Eternity Poem by Doris Cornago

Climbing his bike, he is aware of tiredness

But the table is laid and he must hurry to feast

Lighter now by 5 kilos but still, he wants lower

Pedaling faster, the wind sings in his ears

Closer and closer the rolling sound comes swooshing

There's a pop and all becomes still in his head.


Look a bird drops from the sky, falling in smithereens

The tree before him looks scraggly, oddly shaped

Its skeleton fingers reaches out begging for mercy

Slowly it crumples as one liquid, spilling guts

Into pavement, a dull grey matching the sky

A dull light flashes in his brain, warning danger.


His grip on the bicycle relaxes, realizing the steel

Has molten into soft rubber, a salty taste in his mouth

Makes him know warm blood has flowed to his jaws -

He has fallen down from bike to pavement instantly

Where are his feet, his hands, what has become of face?

Madly, maddeningly, all seems molten into nothingness.


Just this morning he said hi, the room responded as one

Today and forever, he has planned on living the same

But yet, there's a quiver in the air and among leaves

One by one, they seem to detach, and quickly swept away

Should this morning be the end of days, how will it be?

Should this morning extend to oblivion, when is eternity?