I have known death
have been close to it
watched a man die
heard my own death
whisper in the room
I am fifty-eight
each year of me
has seen violent death
in the name of causes
for this regime that power
to start something
end something
remember something
these detached deaths down the ages
did not touch me at my core
I did not know their smell
fragrance of oils that seep
from skin and hair
I did not know their voice
or know their breathing
I did not wave them off
to war to work to shop to play
I did not properly love them
these deaths will churn
in the loop of time
that holds the Earth
I will suck molecules
that held their last breath
I will feel their currents
timeless waves of lost
our carbon converging
in footprints of gone
I could not properly love them
Pat Edwards is a writer, teacher and performer who arrived late to the poetry party, but ready for an all-nighter. She has recently appeared at Wenlock Poetry Festival where she read with Keith Chandler and Nick Pearson. No subject is off-limits for Pat, as her recent book “Flux” asserts. Pat lives in Mid Wales on the Powys-Shropshire border where she hosts Verbatim open mic sessions in Welshpool. She is currently helping to organise the Welshpool Poetry Festival which is on the 10th and 11th of June.
