Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #9
I'm Sorry That I Died
by Belinda Roddie
"I'm sorry that I died," said Roger, "but
you still have to admit that it was time.
The awful fits of coughing, blood like rust
escaping from my lips - the horrid grime
that coated the back of my throat! It parched
me so that no drink could satisfy me.
The way my legs gave out and how I lurched
about the house and stumbled to my knees.
I was quite old, my dear, and very gray -
I did not have the strength to laugh or walk
or even please you in cold night, hot day,
or warmer afternoons. I could not talk,
or smile, or love the way I'd done in youth.
You'll die soon, too, and then you'll see the truth."
by Belinda Roddie
"I'm sorry that I died," said Roger, "but
you still have to admit that it was time.
The awful fits of coughing, blood like rust
escaping from my lips - the horrid grime
that coated the back of my throat! It parched
me so that no drink could satisfy me.
The way my legs gave out and how I lurched
about the house and stumbled to my knees.
I was quite old, my dear, and very gray -
I did not have the strength to laugh or walk
or even please you in cold night, hot day,
or warmer afternoons. I could not talk,
or smile, or love the way I'd done in youth.
You'll die soon, too, and then you'll see the truth."
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