death first visited at seven
in the form of endless sleep
ghosting over weathered skin
and phantom hair; hollowing
bones that would creak no more.
they told me that the end was of
peace as we went through oceans
and back, to where the shell of my
grandfather lay.

death later breezed past at nine, when
the faiths started to shift at home and
great grandmother could no longer
remember my face. they told me that
time takes and time heals, but no one
ever spoke of how the flowers in her
garden stopped blooming after she
left us; only the faint hint of musk
and jade helps us remember she
once was here.

death crashed in at eighteen like the
clashing of cymbals and blaring of
horns, when the cells in my uncle's body
multiplied and could not stop. they told us
there was only today or tomorrow, yet in
my heart i knew he would stay forever.
we never speak about how his last breaths
sounded like train wrecks or how his passing
meant weeks of grey; only of how he left
a legacy of love behind and laughter that
could outshine
the sun.

death came unannounced at nineteen as
i watched my dog pass into eternity's slumber.
after fifteen years with her the loss is shattering;
when i close my eyes it is still her salt and pepper
fur between the gaps of my fingers, her happy
barks when we returned home. i never want to
let go, yet i know one day i must -

memory lasts where
life cannot.

(A.H.Z)