Monday, February 14, 2011

Without Me

Image borrowed from Yahoo


Without Me

Time is but a ghost dance
in the minds of those who have been
touched by me, and when I make
that grand transition, crossing over
thresholds unseen but often visualized,
my dream of this life will end,
and I will awaken to a rainbow suit
draped on a grand bed post,
with loving light radiating
from my translucent fingertips,
in a room without mirrors,
without walls,

as those dark smudged trails of mascara
running down fluttering cheeks are soon
powdered dry, following the brilliant nano-second
of my passing all the traffic lights belch green
and the tiny wailing of the grieved becomes
a choral inhalation of breath, new life
for a litter of kittens, for a hundred thousand
old-souls emerging as infants, for hatching eggs
and blossoms bursting their pods
as the circus train moves on.

Glenn Buttkus

February 2011

Would you like the Author to read this poem to you?



Posted over on Applehouse Poetry

4 comments:

Tess Kincaid said...

You're not planning on going anytime soon, I hope. I'm personally leaving instructions to hire a large group of distinguished mourners after I'm gone. (Beautiful piece, Glenn.)

Paul Bauck said...

I might like to use this for my epitaph. What are the royalty fees?
;-)

Your poetry is beautiful.
Paul

Jannie Funster said...

Excellent!

Xxoo

Lynne Rees said...

Glenn - this really took off for me in the 2nd stanza. I wonder if the poem could start much sooner, trimming away a lot of the 1st?