He had only one more gift to give,
the manner of his going.
He had only one short life to live,
and only now was knowing
it was shorter than he thought.
And yet….. the gift….
……..the gift of going
without having others wait
longer than they should.
Without clinging to a type of
life far beyond its good,
was a lesson only late learned.
“Die when you’re still alive”,
he thought, “when you can be
remembered laughing, not
as a weeping dribbling dimentiate.”
He hoped he could deliver.
Martin Swords July 2008
Martin Swords
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-late-gift/
