Notes About The Poem
Cosmic Death Poetry, Sponsor: Seth Pina
You’re Mist as Lights Go Out
Like coins tossed, that lose their worth, and sink,
lying with a myriad of other fallen stars, death
seems hopeless, yet doesn’t each one retain
hopes and wishes? The mourners believe.
—quote by Poet
You’re Mist as Lights Go Out
From up above, my death seems far away.
If I’d openly lie upon the plot -
Why six feet more? Six feet below the soil.
It’s just as dark in outer space; closed eyes.
Why’re flowers pressed to unseen breast of mine?
I can’t smell them and scents depress mourners.
The death of lights, downward, but upward too!
If I’d just blink, would stars be gone from sight?
Dippers, the big and little scoops, still there.
They never seem to fall away. Thank God!
How else might I find myself out from grave?
It’s dark and grave; however so, I’ll live.
Scripture rolls up the sky, but not my flesh.
The coins that shine underneath lids are rich;
how so? These copper rounds’ not worth a dime.
O Sun, O Moon - you’re mist as lights go out.
Kissing the glow that shines so bright, alive,
I’m missing you from bed of wood and silk.
Why six feet more? Six feet below the soil?
Why not openly lie upon the plot.
From up above, my death seems far away.
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