Death Comes In Threes

Shivers went up my back
At the sound of the long drawn out WHOOOOOOOO
Death? Despair? Or Wisdom?
Does it depend on the kind?

I search for it in the barn,
Hoping I do not find it.
For it resembles a white faced calf
if it lives there.

Do not hear it for two or three days.
Begin to feel confident, things are okay here.
Two friends die. One of pneumonia, the other of a heart attack.
Dying comes in threes.

I sit listening, hoping not to hear,
and yet fully expecting to hear the 
long drawn out WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Wise? Certainly not. 
Reality? Yes.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace