stone panegyric

death wears so many costumes

but there is really only one homicide

and even that death surpasses legal definition

it is simply, intentionally, taking a life

 

since we’re still alive, and we never conspired to kill,

i cannot blame her nor myself for this death

we watched our collective life sicken, whither away

and die; we are not murderers

 

sure, we were always going to be prime suspects

in the eyes of those who prescribe criminal behavior

they’re automatically suspicious

of those who found the dead body

 

i’ve come to this plot to pay my respects

and to consider this question:

does anything, anyone, pass before its Time?

or is this simply a conciliatory cliche?

 

we’re so used to playing god, us humans

small wonder she and i longed to resuscitate

the terrifyingly pale corpse

of our once vibrant relationship

 

a eulogy for a romance seems silly

but this is a real death, the loss of

a tangible, unique life, whose magic

we will never know again

 

tragic though it seems by modern standards

i watch the Great Mystery carry on, with simply

a passing nod at this minuscule casualty,

quietly certain we will all Rest In Peace

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