Death Barged In

Sunday, October 02, 2011

I read a poem today on a blog I have begun following. It was simple and beautiful. I wanted to write a bit about it tonight. When I tried, I found I was having a difficult time with it. Not for lack of ideas, or because the thoughts moved me too much- but because it is all encapsulated in this poem. The constant brutal nature of death. I'll leave it in lieu of my own thoughts tonight.


by Kathleen Sheeder Bonnano

In his Russian greatcoat
slamming open the door
with an unpardonable bang,
and he has been here ever since.

He changes everything,
rearranges the furniture,
his hand hovers by the phone;
he will answer now, he says;
he will be the answer.

Tonight he sits down to dinner
at the head of the table as we eat, mute;
later, he climbs into bed between us.

Even as I sit here, he stands behind me
clamping two colossal hands on my shoulders
and bends down and whispers to my neck,
From now on, you write about me.

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