There's been a lot about dying in the magazine recently. It appears to be getting to our Norfolk Friend Bob Ward in his sleep. He awoke one morning aware that he had been writing a poem about dying in his dreams. He completed it there and then and sent it to us.

Dying...
...may take place anywhere
but let it be among
people to whom
I can express my love

...may take place anytime
but let it be when
the sun has risen
upon a day to leave to others

...will take place anyhow
but let it be at peace
bearing no grudge
against the world

...must come, will come
but let it be, oh Lord,
in the fullness of an active mind
and not just yet

Labels: death, poetry