AGAINST THIS DEATH
I have seen respectable
death
served up like bread and wine
in stores and offices,
in club and hostel,
and from the streetcorner
church
that faces
two-ways;
I have seen death
served up
like ice.
Against this death,
slow, certain:
the body,
this burly sun,
the exhalations
of your breath,
your cheeks
rose and lovely,
and the secret
life
of the imagination
scheming freedom
from labour
and stone.
-- Irving Layton
2 comments:
Excellent poem. Very moving. Very well written.
A great site - www.irvinglayton.com - for news of his life and death.
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