“Dying Man”
He sat in bewilderment
as if suddenly unable to stand.
Saying nothing yet having
The contemplative look of a dying man.
One who begins to realize
the evanescence of his frame.
“Remember me” he longs to say
possessing no such claim.
Like the ebbing of a tide
that created such great waves
he was the master of his sea
and now has become its slave.
It takes all his strength to tolerate
and maintain composure in his mess.
Holding is anxiety
deep within his chest.
Placid face. Quiet eyes.
His reality goes unseen.
Beneath the stillness of his skin
he’s anything but serene.
Sitting alone quietly
the stillness he can’t stand.
Saying nothing, staring out with
the contemplative look of a dying man.
© 2009 Matt Bohannon
