I live a vapor, a ghost, a breath <br />That nightly rises in the West; <br />A shimmering smoke, a whiff, a test <br />Of eyesight weak from lack of rest; <br />I live beyond my mortal span, <br />Beyond the rim of mortal man; <br />My purpose thus to broad survey <br />My consequence beyond my day; <br />And at my funeral, o’er my bier, <br />I hover o’er, I hover near, <br />The coffin that holds my remains, <br />My ear attuned to friends refrains; <br />“I knew him not, ” “I knew him well, ” <br />How strange the details on which they dwell, <br />Praised for traits I didn’t have, <br />Their tears for fears, a balm, a suave; <br />I swoop, a comet rounding corners <br />Around the heads of kneeling mourners, <br />They say their words and stoop to pray, <br />And rise to carry on their day; <br />There are chores to do, bills to pay, <br />Death’s a stop along the way; <br />How quickly is a soul forgot; <br />Forgotten while the flesh does rot; <br />Life goes on with small concerns <br />Eponyms, food for worms. <br />Haunted by their separate devils, <br />They dance and squirm on many levels, <br />Insisting that there is no death, <br />Though a voice is gone and has no breath; <br />There is no pause to long lament, <br />A voice is gone, a sad event, <br />But there’s devils dancing in their head; <br />They claims their due and must be fed; <br />They sell their house and buy new homes <br />While I lie molting in fresh loam; <br />It was my conceit the world would stop, <br />When I was left to lie and rot; <br />But, no, the world continued on, <br />Though I was dead and shortly gone; <br />Poets still mix metaphors <br />What they mean I’m still not sure, <br />While straining for celestial heights <br />On dark backgrounds lit by night;<br /><br />David McLansky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-live-a-vapor-a-ghost-a-breath/
