DEATH IS RUDE
The maws of death gnaws at my wife’s bones
and threaten to eat her alive—
showing no mercy to family mourners
who can’t stop weeping and wailing.
It buries our hearts in quicksand
where there’s no way up—only down.
This black back open door spooks us
like an unruly stallion panicked by a squirrel.
Death is an amputation without an anesthetic—
like losing both your legs and being called: STUMPY,
with nobody laughing.
In the end you learn death is proof of your love,
and the very best friend you’re ever going to have.