We say
“He passed away”.
The “d” word
Is often
Not heard.
He is in his coffin
So why this absurd
Fear
Of the “d” word?
Does the Reaper, standing, unnoticed, near
Smile at our denial
That you and I
Shall die?
Larkin took refuge in drink
But, at dawn did think
On death
And felt bereft.
I have now said
The word we dread
To voice.
We have a choice
Over what words are said
But we are nonetheless, dead
In the end
My friend.
Published on April 03, 2019 04:31