My husband's poetry

Category: Death & Afterlife

  • Augury

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Because there are no worms or flies this time of year, I will not begrudge a murder of crows a careless squirrel, lying dead in the road. Every once in awhile an easy meal’s okay. Maybe they’ll be more cautious than roadkill squirrels and won’t adorn a grille 1-18-23

  • For a friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    For a moment, I thought I saw you in the grocery store parking lot getting out of your car. You turned and smiled. I started to call out your name, when I remembered you’ve been gone over a year and I don’t believe in ghosts (not even the friendly kind). But for moment, I thought…

  • Cut flowers

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    “And I won’t forget to put roses on your grave” (Rolling Stones) cut flowers in a vase already dead we keep them only until their death can no longer be denied and throw them in the trash because they will not grow it seems strange to gift my lover a bouquet, because she enjoys the…

  • Murder she wrote

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Gloomy overcast morning, you daydream Angela Langsbury walking her dog in the park across the street. She calls out and waves. You call back frantically you are too young to die and to stay on her side of the street. As she walks away; you call out, “…and don’t forget to scoop,” rise from your…

  • Needing a news break

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    cfblack
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    Reading the news, I remember how my parents drew nearer death and seemed to take on a different glow telling childhood stories When missiles approach Kyiv do the souls at ground zero take on a special glow before they incinerate? 10-17-22

  • untitled

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    I want to live to be two hundred, hidden away in some old folks’ home, dragged out on my birthday to pose for social media. A dried up old prune nobody really knows; no cherished memories of me taking them for walks, candy in my pockets to share away from their mothers’ prying eyes. Just…

  • Night stand

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    I saw an article about the planning of the funeral for the queen of England and she’s not yet dead. And I thought funerals are for the living, the almost living, the almost dead; survivors or rather temporary survivors filing past a casket or urn sitting on a night stand dressed up with an embroidered…

  • an overdue poem for a friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    How long did the tree stand stoic and strong before the crack, the fall, the thud, the tearing at surrounding trees on its way to ground? If I knew today was your day to fall, would I have come the day before stand next to your trunk or climb up and sit awkwardly in your…

  • Cora Lee

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    by

    cfblack
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    On First Thursday evenings I imagine you standing in robe and slippers staring down into a cluttered living room Before you passed into a diabetic coma landing all bruised and broken at the bottom of a rising stair 8-8-22

  • White shadow dancers

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    When you first learned of World War II and the cost of winning the war you would lie on the living room floor watch dust motes above your head shimmer in the sunlight and imagine white shadow dancers the same age as yourself traced upon the ground no longer able to dance. 8-6-22 August 6th…