I Met Death Last Night Poem by Robert Beckerman

I met death last night
In a small white bedroom she laid
I met death for the first time
Frightened, though the blessing of youth was upon me

It did not drape its freeze on me
But took the motion from her eyes
Her clammy hand creeping up my wrist
And my tears fell faintly as did her clasp
Touch being far greater than words

I wanted to be elsewhere when the moment had arrived
Chilled as she
Scared as she
My foot out the doors threshold and my hand in hers
She, slowly tearing apart, half into this waking life
Half into unknown

Is there beauty in this distant dark
Unlike the beauty here
Does man wear the crest of love and truth on his heart
Rather than dagger or spear

Each shake and quiver is a ghastly image
Every guarded secret faintly falls away
Her breath slows as the silence grows and
Her warmth goes gentle and far

I wanted to be by her side when the moment had arrived
Calm as she
Light as she
With nothing in her eyes
My foot out the doors threshold and my hand in hers
Slowly tearing apart
She, an angel of the unknown
A traveler in the night.