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(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

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The Last Waltz

Twilight enters the room
it doesn’t bother to knock
“Ahh…yes…a guest…I know Mr. Death! ”

Death bows before me
like a bad
impression of Rudolph Valentino

death asks if
he can have this dance
I feel I can’t refuse

“Ahhh… Death…Mr. Death! ”
I swoon as if in a bad melodrama
“I could die in your arms! ”

and suddenly the party was:
over in an instant
the orchestra packing up their instruments

the Past had been packed away
the Future to be put on hold
Now was the only now I could afford

music lingered
like cigarette smoke
writing itself upon the air

“Ahhh…that’s Life! ”
trying to snatch it from the air
the music slipping through my fingers

“Now…now! ” Death smirks
“I’ll have none of that! ”(my heart stopped)
I took his hand…we…stepped into the dark

Submitted: Monday, July 01, 2013
Edited: Thursday, July 25, 2013


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  • Gajanan Mishra (7/1/2013 4:55:00 AM)

    death bows before me, good poem, thanks.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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