In This Place

The Trees on the Sidewalks Outside the Windows

Seemed Extraordinarily Distant

The Pedestrians Don’t Make a Sound

Passing Across Those, Dangerous Crosswalks

with the support one needs at the end of one’s life, not my photograph…

A Few Parasols Were Blown to Pieces

In the Raging Winds

The Skies are Filled

With the Signs as Usual

The Purity of the Clouds Resembled that of White-Washed Cottons

The Light from the Dusk Looked Like Blood

Like Those Deceased Loved Ones

Here, We’d, Whispered So Softly

No Longer Hurrying to and fro

The Couples Who’d Been Mean to One Another

Now, Held Hands, Shook Hands, and Made Amends

focusing on the quality of life during the final days, not my photos…

The Children Who’d Visited the Parents Once Every Year in the Past

Now Shows Up Often

Due to Fear of Death

We’d Come, to Respect Life

(Especially for Those, Whose Lives are about to be, Gone)

Because the Sorrows Weren’t Expressed

So, the Tears Started, Acting Out

The Various Scenes

Here, I’m Guessing

That Everybody Feels Elated?

This Final Passage of Life

With the Never-Ending Supplies of Morphine

Along with the Professional Medical Staff Members

They are All, Very Gentle & Kind

The Sun Also, Became Very Punctual

Entering from the Windows

And, Retreated Where It’d, Entered

Although Life Was Never, Fulfilled

As the Days, Cut Short

But Here, We’re able to

Have Some Time, to Remember the Days Gone Past

very aged…not my photograph…

With a Little Extra Time, to Pack For Ourselves

Ready to Leave

Headed, to Another Place

And There’s, Enough Evidence that Showed

That We Will All Surely, Get Some Peace & Quiet There

So, this is, the words, of a sick, ailing, dying man, I suppose, the individual had, checked into the hospice for a while now, and, s/he is just, waiting, for life to end, and, s/he had already, come to accepting, that life is, about to be over, that, is why, there’s, no fear, no anger in the “tone of voice” of this poem.