Death surrounds us with blatant arms.
A sanitation worker dies and no one
cares, but banshee phones striking at midnight,
'All that we are not stares back at what we are.' - W. H. Auden
Shrunken face: brown, refined and small.
Who reduced you to this diminutive size?
When did you become fragility's core?
You scare me. My days tremble like a cold leaf.
'The world is myself; life is myself'. - Wallace Stevens
Snow claims walkways: restless crystals,
like they are at its mercy, but who really is,
which is the test of wind, or the speed of air.
Intimately involved, shovel and man? Most
I was a year and a half old when
Two, loud cracks punctured western confidence
Through air; my future head snapped back in grief.
Just when I put my mortality behind me
Somebody I know dies; the scourge of daylight
Drops its existential contents and mental bricks
Onto your lap, the comfort zone of life.
Where is the religious eye? Morning is dark.
In Pennsylvania, a tear has left
youngish ducts, and blood has replaced it.
Lilies opened into the outer room.
They almost overshadowed the entire place.
It was there in bright recesses the talk
Began, the colors, the aromas filling what
Drenched assumptions were all we had.
It was alright, she said,
for umbrellas to be panaceas,