I saw death in his face today
And he was beautiful.
Skeletal, exquisite in his pain,
Ending with his eyes raised high
Beyond his lids,
Trying to remember
An unfinished thought.
His sculpted cheekbones
Molded to bone.
Only bone, thin skin,
Bluish tint to a man with vacancy:
“Comfortably Numb” played
On the radio.
As I held the long-fingered hands
Perhaps a musician he may be:
Tomorrow he may be no more.
Still, a picture I would steal
If an artist I could be.
Such a gorgeous death portrayed.
But still, while this wandering image stays,
Questions, quiet, in the fading of his life:
What limits or eternity does Death provide?
Born in Chicago, IL, U.S.A., Cathy DeWolf moved to Los Angeles to pursue a career as a rock n’ roll guitarist. Didn’t make it and went to U.C.L.A. with an AB in Literature. She has worked, traveled, written and moved many times. Now, she is married and resides in the Northwest, continuing to write; traveling when possible. Also, she volunteers with people who are nearing the end of their life on Earth.
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