Shane Bartlett - To Forgive

All the men I've known who died
died quickly, in the gasping seconds of heart failure,
or they went hard: six eight twelve months'
delirium nights - until finally something black
oozed from their anguished mouths.

The only woman I've known who died
died slowly, with some measure of grace
but much secrecy: six months'
melancholy barely sensed - like a fading aura,
the diminishing vibrato of a tuning fork.

In the end there is no difference
I now know. I've just read eighty pages on death
and the process of dying: around me
nothing much happened - the wind blew,
I was shaken.


First published in Poet's Canvas, June 2003

Shane Bartlett

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-forgive/