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Entries in poems about death (5)


Waiting Room, by Peter Neary-Chaplin

This seems appropriate as my old Mum is now on palliative care at the end of her journey.

Dying is a long thing,
a million bright moments carefully collected like stamps,
pressed between powdery pages,
an uncurared gospel of fragments.
Interpretation comes only
with the final part.
For now, we hold skinny hands in this waiting room.
The mattress pump purrs.
I witness every flicker of her alabaster face,
and dream of returning to memories of days with heart,
knowing that this book must close
and another life for each must start
with her repose. 


A Marriage, by R S Thomas

We met
   under a shower
of bird-notes.
   Fifty years passed,
love's moment
   in a world in
servitude to time.
  She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
  closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
  'Come' said death,
choosing her as his
  partner for
the last dance. And she,
  who in life
had done everything
  with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
  for the shedding
of one sigh no
  heavier than a feather.