Last Words (As a Writer) (At the End of April and Other Times)
It is hard to speak of last words–
we don’t much believe in “last”
and we’re reluctant to fast
from words– ‘talk’ a favorite verb,
and ‘verbal’ where we rest assured.
But, in life, syllables sometimes cease–
when even cries of ‘help’, ‘help, please’
are unable to procure preferred
relief, breath itself become absurd
(though we still crave it). I want, then,
to say ‘thank you’, and say again,
‘thank you,” till nothing more from me is heard.
If, so…. And, so…. I tell myself too,
I should probably start this morning
(in case of no advance warning).
So, thanks, I say, bowing low to you
as deeply as words can bow, thank you.
One more draft poem for April, for Izy Gruye’s prompt on With Real Toads to write about a time of bang and hiss when words may not be longer available to you.
The thanks are very sincerely meant, for all the support you have given me this April National Poetry Month of a poem or draft poem a day–thanks to the prompters at Real Toads, especially to Kerry O’Connor who arranged everything and shows so much depth and inspiration and integrity in her work–thanks to all the poets, and special thanks to those who managed to read thoughtfully and supportively despite the very real pressures on their own time and energies.
The animation is an old one done by me–a bit silly for the poem–but closest to a bow I could think of. Thanks again!
ps this has been edited since first posting.