my attendance at 5 deathbeds confirms
that the throes they ebb into a fabulist peace
a release so gentle it makes birth that garish
bloodbath ! an unquiet grotesque
not so the birthing of death no forceps (just those prying sister’s fingers off of u)
here there is a low swinging to the wailing
of those who are losing u who do not see
that u are just over yonder waiting
so don’t u weep
don’t u moan
DON’T wish them back
get a life
..she could still see, feel, his mind darting, and darting..
(William Faulkner 1932)
Fall 2020 ..long may u run .. Marty Atkins October 21, 2018 ..is waiting.. and darting..