A Question Of My Own Mortality Poem by Lynn W. Petty
A Question Of My Own Mortality
Time seemed interminable.
A curious and inexplicable apprehension came over me,
As I sat in an elderly care home waiting to visit a friend.
The atmosphere was heavy with quiet confusion.
People wandered about searching and shifting in a
Sort of stolid acquiescence. Their lives recalled as flashes in memory, projecting film images on their thick, gray screen of dementia.
Across from me sat an elderly gentleman whose gaze was a glassy
Expression of inattention. I could see the declinations of his skull
Beneath his facial features. A victim of the grievous calamities
Of time, vaguely aware of his own frailty.
A harassing anxiety overcame me. Is it death or is it the lingering
Before my death I find discomposing?
No, it is not the naked fact of death I fear, it is the prison
Of my own being; that time from competence to incontinence;
Between enclosure to final closure.
Why was I so disrupted? Perhaps, it was a solemn foreshadowing,
Dimly seen on the distant reaches of my destiny,
In that, I had witnessed my own fragile mortality.
'The atmosphere was heavy with quiet confusion. People wandered about searching and shifting in a Sort of stolid acquiescence.' I love the juxtaposition of these lines with the next line 'Their lives recalled as flashes in memory, projecting film images on their thick, gray screen of dementia.' so powerful and graphically true, I used a similar film image in a different context once, and the 'Dimly seen on the distant reaches of my destiny, In that, I had witnessed my own fragile mortality.' which is the reason I race to get a few thoughts down before passing crossing into a new state of awareness waiting
Thought provoking and meaningful write throwing light on natural human tendencies appearing in the evening of life. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
I have a very elderly friend who is 99 this year and she is in the same situation in a Care Home and sometimes she knows us and sometimes she doesn't. Very sad that the mind goes before the body and sadly there is nothing one can do to help them remember. You have captured the wandering minds trying to make out where they are and how they came to be there. Very confusing situation. Very well captured, I feel the same every time I visit her. Love Ernestine
it is the prison Of my own being; that time from competence to incontinence; Between enclosure to final closure. .............................. love this. :) [you know what i mean, i hope] bri the poem may say enough [i haven't finished yet, but i just read the Poet's Note], but it doesn't say it ALL! love the alliterations here: Dimly seen on the distant reaches of my destiny, In that, I had witnessed my own fragile mortality. to MyPoemList immediately! well, almost immediately. bri :)
This poem is set to become a part of my 2nd showcase of PH poems later this month. bri ;)
I believe that my PH friend, Lynn Petty, has died, I believe from cancer. I also left messages in 2016. Best wishes to Lynn if he is still lingering, and CONGRATULATIONS if he has escaped further turmoil in his life. bri ;)
No it is not the naked fact of death that I fear it is the prison of my own being.......you said it all Lynn.....a harsh truth so difficult to face but one is never able to escape. My best wishes to you.
It is mortality of body.What you create through words are immortal.about the hard truth of life, the poem is excellent.
WOW...stunning, scary imagery, and a terrifying sad reality for some of us approaching later years. Superbly penned 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 7:02:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
'Why was I so disrupted? Perhaps, it was a solemn foreshadowing, Dimly seen on the distant reaches of my destiny, ' it often proves desirable not knowing what the future holds