Latter Than Sooner
What better way to slip out of this world
than in one’s sleep? There is no guarantee,
of course, it will happen that way with me.
Still what harm in hoping?
Yet it has benefits, like outsmarting death
that likes to surprise a victim by coming up
from behind, so-to-speak, and tapping
one’ s houlder when least expected.
Another is the interminable waiting
and not knowing exactly how, when,
or where it will happen. (A good friend
of mine died while on the commode!)
Best of all, it’s not having to suffer, to linger,
waiting for the thread of life to stretch
until it breaks, and not having to endure
the dumb stares of family huddled around
the bed, (or if an accident, surrounded
by doctors and nurses administering
some sort of life support) – tongue-tied,
squeezing out well-intentioned sugar-coated
words dressed in optimistic but illusionary
hopes – a fast unexpected recovery, or better still
though most unlikely and absurd, a miracle.
Another bonus, the absence of a clergyman
with his abracadabra and hocus pocus and
formulaic prayers which have never yet
(to my knowledge, at least) forestalled Death’s
determined stride one second nor weakened
its determination, nor soften its bite, all of
which only comforts (if at all) the living who
have come to see you off as though on a
voyage of a lifetime, which dying is, couched
in a metaphor so stale it smells from over use.
Still it’s a chilling fact that no one in
the tight circle of my family and relations
has ever died in their sleep – at least so far.
So it’s a slim chance I will, and though
my heart is less than happy at the prospect,
still, I’m taking no chances – I’m braced
for that unwanted shoulder tap. Are you?
Copyright © Maurice Rigoler | Year Posted 2023
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