Death Poem by Martha J. Eshelman
Death
Death stands by his closet dressing.
He checks his date book. Twice.
Death dresses in black like a cat burglar,
slinks over the sill
shrinks from the ones with fear
strikes from behind.
Death puts on a red party dress
to dance and fling and lift
in a tango for those with ties.
He lets the refrain play twice.
Death dresses in wedding white
a proud approach with open arms
embraces the ones so weary
they run to meet him.
But for me, death wears a rainbow
a shimmering collage of times.
I pick a strand, unravel, follow
reach its abrupt end.
It is well written and light in comparison to its topic—perhaps this is the other reason why I like it; thank you!
Dear Martha, You are right what I feel yes, death is our shadow always accompany us.I really love this poem.
Martha-Death is to us how we live and relate to death-fine imagery, I especially liked the 'wedding white' which resonsates in so well with 'ones so weary'. Your contemplative nature shines through your work. Phillip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 3:47:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
very nice poem darling