.
….. all poems hint death
though some pretend not to mention it
decked as they are
in bright intentions to make it moot,
but it can’t be helped—
it looms over every word
no matter how light
….. no matter how fresh and light a poem may seem
it can’t resist death’s ballast,
can’t throw it off to set its brilliant balloon
completely free, to let it float
over rain forests, wine dark seas,
the snows of Kilimanjaro,
over sun-stroked streams and lovers walking their banks in bliss,
over day lilies, lupine, and coffee with you at six
as still earth sloughs its gloom and blue heaven
comes with sun creating a more tentative moon
pallid in the light of life
……. all poems blossom in the shade of death
so it’s no wonder we imagine an alternate paradise
beyond, a place of mythic respite
…… it’s no wonder we sadly obfuscate
and tell tales of it to the young who then
disregard truth clear and dear:
…………………………………………………… this world
offers a promise of a paradise
only lovers may reach
Jim Culleny
1/24/17
Blink 