Last Poem for Thursday October 3 2022 Finding the Meaning Jill

[jill stockinger]

A bit of black humor. Fitting for Halloween.

And this is the last poem I will send for discussion for Thursday, November 3, 2022.

Promise!

I JUST wrote this. Hot off the printer. Jill

Finding the Meaning         by Jill Stockinger

 

I become untethered from gravity

and I fly around the room.

Curious, she inquires how my point

of view changes as I am flying

but I am whirling around

so rapidly, everything is a blur.

I try to shout out, “Help me,”

but the words are unintelligible

because I am speeding around

too fast and suddenly I find myself

outside the large open window

and I scream, “I’m flying like a bird!”

with visions of Peter Pan in my head,

but really I am falling downward,

all nine stories, and go “Splat!”

in a very painful, messy manner

on the street below. “You Can Never

Be Too Careful,” were the words

she thoughtfully had engraved

on my gray granite headstone.

She was good at finding the moral

in every story she heard or read.

                  by Jill Stockinger