In absentia
dead before her death
hands as spare as any in a compass
at her own dark burial
finding nobody
paper looking for paper
a door open to a door
Poems on the topic: death
Poems on the topic “death” on Poets.by.
In extremis
pain coming
a drowned light in the sand
white pain comes to me as lace
and I am itself
the cast of a person
I never saw before
Foliage
I wear my sorrow
trimmed with gold silk
like a worn-out wife
forced to sneak like a beggar into bed
but it can cost a great deal
just to die
Delirium
gone so soon I see him ill still
in that delirium
his talk like fine lace
his discourse on Peak Oil and empire
making all imaginable
as an old man’s hair
dark and light took him
by appointment
and he answered saying
that he was not his weaknesses
End of days
church was so terrible
my wife and I slept most
of the afternoon together
preparing for ash
Where we sat
with great ease
the oak lives or dies
Funeral plan
in my will I mutter against money
but I will be dead and clean from top to toe
and laying out so much
on clothes for my close
Tableaux
prettily done for the common way
the road cost me my wife
who has a mind
to understand each window
here is the terrestrial
here painted as life
here at home people sit up longer
before their ash
Funereal
meeting with great quiet
as if in an urn
hearing a crow
took us to the light
wise were we that had
no itch to pray
The drowning
we all look
into the water where
a child was brought to his death
not long since
his little sister
calling
The coming storm
the soul of suspicion
about all this quiet
they should employ me
at a company of questions
a man well spoken
for a dead man
falling and coming to lie
like brisk ice in the discourse of air
Sad times
I wake by 4:00 o’clock
to any day but my own
here a forest here a clearing
here a dead body and his imp of a fly
it is midsummer in the country of grief
nothing is done but trade
dinner for dinner
a fancy tune for a glass
and sorry for however
present a loss
I hear that Parliament is against
the scandal of nature
which if too much provoked
shall go to bed
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