We Watched
Stan Grimes
April 19, 2008
For as many years I've been alive I never actually saw someone die. In this case it was my mother. In failed attempts to vocalize what I saw and felt, I wrote this poem. Please forgive its rudimentary form. I'm not the greatest poet aroun.
Your last breath
labored gasp
came like drizzling
fog in a ditch
we saw it
jaw out of place
Jewish oven face
Staring the mean
child-look
you pose
for Screams, the movie,
I hold back
tears of disbelief
you´re gone.
Did your bloodless
body hear
titanic farewells
feel the rising
of bubbles
the embaumer´s
imperfection?
Did your stomach
churn As the grave
elevator
made its way
mechanical buzz
of life taking
you away?
The mouth
without a beard
made you
its tongue
the grave now has
a voice box
without words.
Your last breath
labored gasp
came like drizzling
fog in a ditch
we saw it
jaw out of place
Jewish oven face
Staring the mean
child-look
you pose
for Screams, the movie,
I hold back
tears of disbelief
you´re gone.
Did your bloodless
body hear
titanic farewells
feel the rising
of bubbles
the embaumer´s
imperfection?
Did your stomach
churn As the grave
elevator
made its way
mechanical buzz
of life taking
you away?
The mouth
without a beard
made you
its tongue
the grave now has
a voice box
without words.
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