by June Labyzon

I knew this woman a long time ago.
I went to her funeral.
She chose her own
time to die aggressively
since she could not choose
her own way to live.
I didn't know her well,
In fact I didn't even like her.
Yet, I remember
listening to the tremble of whispers
incapable to imagine
such desperation;
chastising her for leaving
alone, four children.
I wanted to deaden their
voices, rise myself above
their judgments
Yes, I too was angry.
I stood muted
in false assumed agreement.
I did not walked her pain
I swim in mine.
Each of us clothe ourselves
in our own protective dressings.
Me, with my poetry.
Claudia with her death.


Posted on 10/26/2014
Copyright © 2021 June Labyzon

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 10/27/14 at 02:35 PM

Fascinating story poem and reflection of life...and death.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/27/14 at 09:55 PM

I prefer your poetry to your death, as you have given me much to think about in this kind of pain, and how I deal with my own. Thank you.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/25/15 at 02:17 PM

this is remarkable, June. quite lovely and ironic in fact. and so true.

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