Brilliant buildup to a killer ending. Poetry by ambush...I love it. And all the things people say when trying to comfort someone in your (I hope not for real) situation. Love the reversal here too: Others were distraught and cried; I offered them what little comfort I could contrive.

Really good, Lady Doom.

I like the last reaction, with laughter, "We're all dying." But for the most part, I've decided that people just react to momentous news--sometimes appropriately, sometimes not--and it's just who they are: imperfect people in an imperfect world. Like me. But I enjoyed your poem and, especially, its denouement.

Really the essence of our struggle here, dealing with dying or the imagined reality of dying, or what the heck really happens when the light goes out. " Don't worry yourself; we're all dying. Oh, thank God for that. I thought it was only me." Loved these lines, among all the others including those great last two. My sister-in-law wouldn't let my mother sit with my brother as he died - don't ask me why - hystrionics, actual real grief might be displayed, who knows? My mother never could tell my father he was dying. People wouldn't believe zany Andy Kaufman when he told them he was dying - it was like some big joke he was pulling on all of us. The further I get into this game the more I want to ask all those people who say someone has "passed" - WHAT? for gds sake - go, the salt, the slow driver, the buck, the gas, the last great test? Early morning rant - please forgive me. Loved the poem.