
Meditations on Messiaen
Revelations
4
Message
Six in the morning.
The phone rings,
shatters our dreams.
A skeletal voice
at the other end announces
the name of the deceased
in ritual words, ending
with my condolences.
Five in the morning here,
nine in the morning over there.
Death at a distance,
three thousand miles
and four hours between us,
yet the phone call arrives
on time, instantaneous.
Your father, your mother, her mother,
gone, their absence heralded
by the police, a lawyer, a doctor,
a nurse practitioner,
an anonymous nurse,
someone you will never meet.
That call can come anytime.
While you are out in the car,
or in the garden, digging,
or maybe shovelling the snow.
And maybe that’s how death will come,
says Seamus Heaney, by telephone,
an unexpected call
from an unexpected caller.
The phone rings and your partner listens,
then hands over the receiver:
“It’s for you, my dear.”
Click on the link below for Roger’s reading.
I hate those calls. 😥
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Don’t we all. Not the greatest moment of anybody’s day, especially when they are unexpected. I hope you found your poem!!! I love the painting. Best.
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