The Long Twilight

The Long Twilight
by Betsy McKenzie

I always
Thought
I’d flash out
Quick.
Snuffed or
Burned out
Like a
Candle
Burning both ends.

Better get used to it:
This dying business
Is slow and gradual.
Small insults
Accumulating
Over decades.
No car wrecks,
Smashing into bridge
Abutments here, ma’am.
We deal in humiliations
And death by inches:
The long twilight.

April 28, 2007

Asthma

Asthma
by Betsy McKenzie





I have disaster in my chest:
Pompeii, slowly buried, choked
With ash and pyroclastic flows.
Hot ashy mud-sludge
Oozes down the paths.
My little bronchi, panic-stricken,
Run madly, trying to dig out the exits.
Too late: Vesuvius is smoking again!

Or is this more like Venice?
Slowly sinking, drowning in its
Beautiful watery grave.
Shore it up! Sweep out the
Cellars... Bailing like mad to
Keep our access to air.
Even after I clear the pipes,
Gasping in air with
Shuddering force:
Dodged a watery death
Just one more time.

April 28, 2007

Calling, Unanswered

Frantic, she tore
Up and down the field.
Crying, calling,
"My baby, my baby!"
No answer,
Gone, beyond all hearing,
The colt lay dead.
The mare, calling,
Hour after hour,
Day after day.
At last, exhausted,
And hopeless,
She gave up.

March 27, 2007
Betsy McKenzie

Worms


Worms
Betsy McKenzie

Dry leaves, pine needles,
Drifts of years gone by,
Sifting slowly downward
Into darkness, meeting worms,
And pillbugs on the way.
This is the secret way,
The path to compost, rich black
Frizzles and crumbs of
Yesterdays; all come back,
Come back to the roots of
Today’s asters and daisies,
The maple and birch and pine.
I should welcome the slow
Ministries of the worms,
If I were as wise as the trees.

Jan. 14, 2006