Are You Missing Anything, Galgano? by Sy Roth


Allow me a presumption to guess.
You may not be missing anything.

But in the seconds that preceded your demise
You thought there was so much,
So much more.
You could swear with the last of your living brain cells
That there was a whole host of things
That you were unwilling to give up—

If only one last breath,
One last clear-eyed look
At the small claque that followed your demise
Garbed in their smug act of living
Clustered around your bedside
Happy not to be in the foxhole with you
Happy to have strapped to their mortality
A scabbard holding a melting broadsword
Dripping around their marching feet.

What could Galgano wish for?
The missing pangs of loss,
The unrelenting rash of living,
The weaving that the walking cane could not balance,
The terpsichory that the ancients poured into his ear,
Even the rising sun clad in a dusky masque of its own impending expiration?

The grass beneath his feet tickled with neuropathy
Held no further romance,
Only wretched dreams of his once living
Neatly boxed and shipped off by an Amazon drone
To a verdant field
To unbox the sod that will blanket him.

There was nothing as he slipped into the darkness
Except the peaceful slap of the oars
And Charon’s toothless, black smile.

The clique wept for its own temporality
And Galgano smiled a knowing smile
As breath ran from him.

©2019 Sy Roth


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Sy Roth is a retired school administrator and has finally found the sounds of silence and the time to think whole thoughts. This has led him to find words and the ability to shape them. He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard, Humber Pie, Poetry Super Highway, Penwood Review, Masque Publications, Foliate Oak, Miller’s Pond Poetry and The Eloquent Atheist.

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