Pecking My Own Reflection
I promise when I die
I’ll linger, nearby,
For a few moments
As long as I can
So you’re not alone
When you’re finally all alone.
Somehow I’ll find a way
To let you know I’m there—
The dog will bark
At a ghost on the porch,
A door will slam
Without the wind,
Your phone will ring
But no one answers.
That strange bird will start pecking
His own reflection again in the back window.
Whatever it is, we’ll agree
That it’s me,
Some last expiring
Essence of me
Letting you know
I’ve arrived
And everything’s fine.
But that will be it.
Last acts are singular and necessarily brief.
The next time your phone
Rings there will be an actual voice
Offering soft condolences.
The next door that slams
Will be from the force of your own grief.
But for five minutes or two minutes
Or 30 seconds or three
Whatever you hear
When I’ve finally passed
Will be the last of me.
The rest is necessary silence.
Those are the rules, I’m sorry to say.
You'll have to imagine me on the other side
Listening for the sound you make
When you arrive.
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