artwork: ralph murre
POEM FOR THE DEPARTED
by Michael Koehler
I want to write
a death poem,
for no one in particular.
I won’t say how you died.
And I can’t speak
for
the others left behind.
It’s almost certain
your death wasn’t fair,
was years too soon.
Unable to make a quilt
from your shirt, or braid your hair
into a vase of flowers,
or cast your dear face
in whitest porcelain
to hang on the wall,
please allow me these small words,
flower petals, really, no more,
for no other reason than
you know I need to write them.
~ previously published in Red Boots (Little Eagle Press)
