If You Can’t Watch
by Regis Boff
Every death,
comes with its particular
novelty.
While birth
plods into life
with sloppy
inaccuracy,
tumbling incoherently
through thick,
sticky afterbirth,
shackled to incomprehension.
Still,
we guess birth
to be miraculous
while it’s endgame,
death
is reviewed as a misfortune
accompanied by a chorus
of “if only’s.”
and the tardy
howls of loss.
But of what good is the marvelous
if you can’t watch?
