Glimmer Poetry
Glimmer Short Stories
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When you were dying...
to Thompo
from Simone

When you were dying the wind was whirling up a gale,
The autumn, fading into winter, lowered darkly,
     but you slept peacefully,
Drifting in quiet dreams towards that final deep
where gods and all the angels sleep
and dream of us and troubled lives,
Of the earth-flung surf that sweeps so briefly up the shore,
Dreams that flicker and are gone
     like ripples that can leave no mark on the bubbling brook
          that laughs within its banks and hurries on
          to make new patterns in the uncarved rock.
When you where quietly dying,
The wind snatched up the withered leaves and swept them high,
The cramped hills sulked beneath the swelling cloud,
And the woodland caught at, but did not catch,
the music wailing through its boughs.
Whirling crowds of seagulls screeched defiance at the abandoned sea
and a hawk flew low across my path as though startled from the sky.
Jealous Time, itself, seemed raging
     at the escape of one who all his life had tried,
     to find still waters in the turbulent rush of days;
So in that most quiet moment when, serene and silent, you slipped away,
the world outside your room was a storm of motion,
     but all its worldly frenzy could not hold back the tide
which carried you so gently into Life's greater,
          calmer ocean.