The Question
"Dad,
Now that you're seventy-five, do you ever think about your death?"
Yes son
I know to live forever
With those I love
Is just a fantasy
But sometimes I ponder
The inevitability of my death
And when I do
The valued gift of my long life
Is more clearly focused
When past times are recalled
I long for those loved and lost
Hauntingly, wistfully
Remembered
Sadness and futility
Cloud my thoughts
I too will be only a memory
But when?
I wonder
I'm eighty now
And do not dwell on death
Avoidance?
Acceptance?
Perhaps a bit of each
by Stan Cooper...8/12/2006 graphic by Don Hunt
Poetry by Stan Cooper
Read 467 times
Written on 2007-03-22 at 04:26
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