Death the Human Dance

People come and go
Gracing us with an opportunity to share in their precious time
It is a sad time when we have to say goodbye
A time filled with red eyes
Quivering lips
Wet handkerchiefs
Open arms and some closed ones too

We don't get to choose how or when people leave
But we can choose how they will be honored
By numbers on our helmets
On mine
By tattoos on out hearts
By ink and tear stained pages
By words uttered to the air where they now sleep

Id like to imagine the hairs on the back of my neck
As monitors to their presence
Id like to imagine each falling leaf a product of their fingers running across this earth
I imagine rain am accumulation of the sorrow they feel
Because maybe some of them are still lonely
Because even death isn't the cure-all we hoped it was

I have empty chairs in my home as an invitation
And that's why I "talk to myself in the library"
It's why I spend so much time on the couch
It's why I keep these resting places clean

Death is something I can't quite say I am acquainted with yet
Despite my more than finger count friends who are

Death is cold
Death is imminent
But I'll dance until it catches me in a faltering step