In The Time Of My Dying Poem by Jim French

In the time of my dying
I saw many things
I felt my memories
form into a mass
of life before

I saw mum and dad
As young
In a long time ago
Christmas morning
When I got the train set I longed for

I felt my first tear
fall from my face
As my dog was hit by the car
and I held his lead in my hand
I felt my first guilt

I felt the sun
shine on my face
through my closed eye lids
As I breathed in the salt aroma
of my first time at the beach

I felt the music assault
my senses in ear and chest
at my first gig
wishing it was Pink Floyd
instead of a Flock of Sea Gulls

I remember the first time
I saw your face
And knew then
that a heart could miss a beat.

I remember feeling the rush
of my first flight
as the plane
raced down the runway
to take off

I remember warm nights
of friends
of wine
and chat

I remember cold mornings
of getting the bus
to work
as the ice still
stuck to the windows.

I remember too much
to leave behind
I remember too much
for this moment.

I remember
people
places
love
hate
boredom
excitement
I remember
I want more

I remember
I need more time
to relive it
I remember
I need more time
to savour
the feelings
of before
I remember
I need
more time
in my time of dying