DEATH Poem: Dear You, by Josephine McClinton

Did you know I think of you every day?
We’ve never met, but I’m certain we will.
Sometimes, I wonder when.
Sometimes, I wonder how.

I know people who hate you for what you’ve done
for what you’ve taken.
I’ve watched them crumble after you passed through

I know people who fear you, and others who quietly let you in.
You’ve taken those I knew,
those I love

Did you love them too when they rolled into your arms?
Where do they go when you call them?
Do they walk with you in silence?
Do they cry out, or do they already understand?

Are your fingertips gentle
when you tap their shoulder?

Or is your touch cold and final?

What is it like, keeping up this job?
Do you ever wish you could stop?
Would you rest if you could?
Do you have jealousy that we meet you once

But see life every day

Do you find peace in what you do?
Comfort in your mystery?
Power in your strength?

Are your arms always open wide?
How do you feel when we fight you?

When we push you away, only expecting to meet you again?

I fear the day I’ll have to see you come around
I hate you for what you’ve taken, and still, I’m forced to wait for you.