POEMS

LONG long before the eyelids close
And an intake ends the breath,
A body’s eyes and a body’s toes
Can feel the edge of death.
They do not move, they do not think,
They only sit and stare,
The eyes almost ceasing to blink
And the heart ceasing to care.
But it becomes a pleasant thing
To gaze upon the toes
So peacefully dismembering
Before the eyelids close.
Thus Buddha must have sat and known,
Midmost of earth and sea,
The dissolution of the bone
Into its rarity.