A cold spring day
All this will fade away.
No birds to be heard
Only the sound of traffic going somewhere
26 March 2015
5 Replies
Tag Archives: death
Would I Know?
The sound of the clock, each tick bringing it a little closer
An owl hoots in the park
A fox barks
Cars pass outside
The bed is warm
Somewhere a couple laugh
Time creeps onwards
I roll over
Sleep envelops,
I dream
Is death one long dream from which we never wake? And, if so would I know the difference between the state of dreaming and that of death?
Ghosts
As ghosts we pass
Brittle as glass
Nothing lasts
Flower
Scentless
Solitary flower
White table cloth.
“Its artificial” my friend remarks.
“No, its real” I say, my fingers touching petals soft as oh too perfect skin.
We drink. The candle illumines a thing neither living or dead.
Thoughts On A February Day
Sunshine
A graveyard
Underground?
No not yet
What Happens To Your Online Presence When You Die?
A firm of lawyers are recommending that people attach a list of their social media passwords to wills in order to make it easier for relatives to access them after the user dies. In this digital age when most people have some form of online presence the issue of what happens to accounts on the demise of the user is of growing significance. For all you bloggers out there (including myself) this article raises important albeit uncomfortable issues as few of us like to be reminded of our own mortality, (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2939685/Lawyers-urge-people-leave-social-media-details-including-Facebook-passwords-wills-alongside-family-heirlooms-savings-house-deeds.html).
Owl
Outside my darkening window you glide. You call, fall, and something once living dies.
Why drewdog2060drewdog2060?
When I make a comment or like a post “drewdog2060drewdog2060” appears which, when clicked on takes the reader to my blog. It makes me smile when people respond to my feedback by addressing me as Drew when, in fact my name is Kevin. Given the use of drewdog2060drewdog2060 it is easy to understand why people make this mistake! So why the drewdog2060drewdog2060 I here you ask?
My third guide dog was a lovely lab/retriever cross called Drew. I have wonderful memories of our time together including walks in the woodland which abuts my home. Drew was a gentle dog who was loved by all who met her, (I remember people who are usually frightened of dogs stopping to pat her).
Drew had her faults (few of us, apart from me of course are plaster saints)! I well recollect her raiding the bins in the office and helping herself to the odd lunch which unwary colleague’s had left within her reach but, despite all this she was a lovely dog who worked loyally as my guide and friend for many years.
March 2011 is indelibly imprinted on my memory. It was an ordinary day. I had gone into my office in London with Drew and on the way home popped into my favourite local for a pint, followed by a trip to the supermarket. Drew kept stopping to relieve herself. I thought she just had a stomach upset which would pass but in the night she began to pass blood. My then partner took her to the vets but, very sadly she died as a consequence of a heart attack brought on by blood loss.
I got my present companion, Trigger on 4 July 2011. He, also is a wonderful dog and has saved me from walking in front of vehicles on several occasions. Despite my bond with Trigger Drew will forever maintain a special place in my heart. She lives on in drewdog2060drewdog2060 and despite the confusion the use of her name sometimes causes I won’t be changing it.
It is a great pity that dogs have such short lives in comparison to we humans.
Drew (sorry Kevin)
The Remorseful Day
I was reminded of the below poem by A. E. Housman, while watching a dramatisation of “The Remorseful Day”, the last in the Inspector Morse series, in which Morse meets his maker (or perhaps not as Morse is an atheist).
Houseman brilliantly captures the desire of man to mend his ways, to become a better person but, in the final verse all hopes are reduced to dust and, as Housman puts it
“falls the remorseful day”.
“How clear, how lovely bright,
How beautiful to sight
Those beams of morning play;
How heaven laughs out with glee
Where, like a bird set free,
Up from the eastern sea
Soars the delightful day.
To-day I shall be strong,
No more shall yield to wrong,
Shall squander life no more;
Days lost, I know not how,
I shall retrieve them now;
Now I shall keep the vow
I never kept before.
Ensanguining the skies
How heavily it dies
Into the west away;
Past touch and sight and sound
Not further to be found,
How hopeless under ground
Falls the remorseful day.”
The Darkness
Laughter in the bar. Drink flows, hail fellow, well met.
Standing at the urinal, looking out, through frosted glass into the darkness from whence we came and to which we shall return.
We fear the eternal night, surround ourselves with light but, when we look into the darkness we are faced, struggle as we may to avoid the truth of it,
with the inevitability of death, the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns.
Returning once more to the laughter. The clinking of glasses while, outside the darkness waits, patiently to swallow me.
(I am blind but can distinguish between light and dark and perceive outlines of objects but not their detail. So, for example I might see a shape but have no idea as to whether it was a man, woman or tree).
K Morris - Poet 