We were laughing
Some joke
Some off-color comment
From left field
Surprisingly funny
Hardly worth repeating
Then came the crushing pain
A loss of breath
Vertigo
Falling on the floor of that stairwell
The odor of old urine reminding me
I wasn't as great as I once dreamed
I could have been
The smell of fresh paint reminding me
This world bears my marks as evidence
I was
The aroma of your perfume reminding me
I was loved so completely
I'll never be again
The nocuous fragrance of death's surprise
Is knowing
We didn't get to say goodbye
Author's Note:
I created this blog to talk about my thoughts and feelings as I move into what feels like a second life. I see death coming one day, and I can't avoid it. None of us can. Until recently, I believed I would die sad about the things I missed out on, and the inadequacies that mar my existence. However, recently, though it is a season of chaos, hurt and confusion, I find that I feel fulfilled and vibrant in my new point of view. This poem, which I wrote yesterday, shows me laughing with someone I love, and whom I know loves me, as I pass into the unknown. Falling short of the ideal is still there, but it is not the consuming, nor the final, thought. My musings in this poem begin with odor, but they rise to aroma. Only the final blow of surprise pains me. But, it is a pain that cannot be avoided when death surprises us. While I do not wish a slow death on anyone, I wish that we would all get to say our goodbyes when those we love are passing on, or when we are passing on and leaving them to grieve. In that way, my wish is that the finality of our inevitable passing is aromatic in love.
