A Long Time Dying (Poetry)

It is impossible to guess
how much of life is spent living
and how much dying
so much of it goes on at the same time
for every cell that flakes away
more divide, more or less
and there’s some sense of surviving
each night we make it through
and we wake to the blue
of another day

And yet how the body aches sometimes
and the energy it takes sometimes
to lift the hand, the head and
convince the melancholy heart
it’s worth the struggle
when there’s a voice that says ‘Give up!’
you hear it hiss and sob and whine
it twangs the conscience
yes — today is cold and grey and wet
but tomorrow might be fine ...

There are spells of pain near-agony
those hours stretch and drag
it seems all around you suffers
shares a casual desperation — knows your plight
how the paint flakes and fades
in a parody of skin
the fly buzzes at the window glass
darkness closes in
our dreams heal us for a while
and death will come in its own time