My Mortality Poem by Albert Ahearn

I wonder if I’m the only one
who smells the fetidness
of dead daylilies,
carrion that lies concealed
off the beaten path.
Could it be my preoccupation with death lately?
Reviewing my will, perusing my prepaid
funeral expenses and life insurance,
that have acutely enhanced
my sense of smell for the morbidities
of death.
It’s not a pleasant state of mind
to live with and act unconcerned
concerning the inevitable conqueror worm.