DEATH'S MOUNTAIN OF DUST

Unexpected and unseasonal
Death clipped another coupon
From my book of life today

A relative of a cousin died
Another deposit on death's
Mountain of Dust

He was an entirely pleasant person
Last seen at a family party
Cleaning up and washing others dishes
With a smile almost a laugh

Exactly how old was he, I asked
Collecting yet another data point
And recalculating probable dates
Of the day for which
I will see the start
But will not see the end

May death become confused
And lost
The day it comes
Looking for my door

The Shovel

One day
The surviving half
Of every couple
Will have to carry
The shovel of
That final separation

When Does Death Begin

When does death begin?
Is it at retirement
Or when you stop looking for new friends?

Are there signs on the first day?
Could I have noticed the start
Of the uncurling spectacle of aging?

I can't say for sure I'm dying
But my body is declining.
Is this witnessed by others?

Should I take more vitamins
And devote myself to more exercising
Or is it too late?

Will someone I love
Come to take me for a ride
And will they speak in language I can understand?

Will I Have To Wait

Will I have to wait
In a wide and empty place
To die

My hot presence no longer felt
My trail through life
A cold and pathless place

My years will disappear
Beneath the dust in others' memories
No longer an event in anyone's history

Death Circumstance

Do kind people die surrounded by loved ones
Do mean people die in front of their enemies
Do lonely people die alone

Do boring people die from nothing else to do
Are people who never talk
Never discussed by anyone again

Are the obituaries of insular people never read
Does your lifestyle
Create your death circumstance

Our Changes

We accept geological changes
And nature's ravages by flood and drought
But we contest our own changes
And strive to preserve old buildings
And to capture carbon
Maybe we should consider
Accepting our own changes as well

BLINK

Blink
And someone or something is gone
Some of my poems are sorrowful
Because life is short

My debt is to memory
My fidelity is to people
I have known
And things that actually happened