Plucking Death Poems From the Aether

Sometimes, there’s no note, yet everyone leaves behind a death poem

Photo by Pylyp Sukhenko on Unsplash

I searched for your death poem, found
only lightning across saltland, grieving
ducks in a murky pond pushing your letter
to me. The one never found.
The one searched for over two decades.
I understood then the formation
of those silvery clouds after your cremation.
As silence connects silence and words martyr
themselves upon the killing ground of meaning
I realized in my pursuit to pluck death from the aether
I never really cared about living at all.

©

Bradley J Nordell

2025

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