In his head, loud
had always meant final
and had been the sound
of closing. It briefly surprised him
to find that his staggering in silence
after the loud was closer to the mark.
The bullets screwed through him
noiselessly on their trajectories.
The sweep of pain throughout his body
did not make a sound
all the rest.
Death did it all
with a long white finger to his lips.
May 1st, 2021 at 7:26 pm
Probably not what you were expressing, but reminded me that more and more I sense that my death will be like removing my finger from a large body of water. No noise, no fuss, no great loss, nothing left to mark the passage.
May 1st, 2021 at 9:24 pm
I will notice.