Death Wish

Culebra ©2015 Ronald C. Flores-Gunkle

My brother died today, 
It was no surprise.
He was so ill for so much time
That his death was pre-announced,
As all deaths are
The moment we are born.

I am an old man
And I have seen friends go
So often that I sometimes say,
Not quite in jest,
That everyone I know is dead.

Dead friends,
dead family.

I have my own concerns
And my own demands.
I want to die in bed,
My own bed,
Like one who partied in the night,
Awoke at dawn to say he was all right
And was cold by morning.

Or another who kissed his wife good-bye
And thanked her for a life of love
And told her, yes, this is good-bye
And went so softly into that good night.

Or another, who wandered from his bed,
And walked off the earth
So silently no one heard his final breath
Until his brow was seen in peace.

If I could plan my death
I’d do it in this way.

I cling to life,
But I know my grasp is weak.
I have no vain illusions
And simply will let go.

I want to go
Thus quietly, and
Hopefully, at night.

Death should be
Some other’s
Break of day.

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