My Death

My Death

By

James Bredin

I hope Marion finds me dead in the year twenty forty two,
Out the backyard among the summer flowers out of view,
She’ll be ninety six by then and me dead at a hundred and five,
Up to that time, I hope we’re both very much alive.

My grandkids and their kids can come and wave good bye,
As I get buried in Scarborough Pine Hills Cemetery nearby,
Near Don Sargent and Otto Maier and a few others,
Lived nearby on Tansley Avenue as if we were brothers.


No big deal except that then, I won’t be around any more,
Long deleted memories, here and there and many foreign shores,
Because I’m not very religious and believe that that’s that,
I’m finished and no one ever got a second kick at the cat.

Monday, October 30, 2006