End of Story

How will my fabled story end
my tale of wins and woes
I’m curious I must confess
to see how it finally goes

The years have doled out practice
with tears of loss and separation
it seems the dying’s in the living
every day’s a preparation

I know just how my story ends
I know how yours ends too
with the death at last of dying
the rest is much ado

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, May 12, 2015. All rights reserved.

Be it peaceful or arduous
Come it swiftly or slow
Without need to know
May I patiently remain

In the here and the now
In the bare whatsoever
With no need to alter
May I calmly remain

Without foisting my faith
Without senseless chatter
With a touch that is tender
May I gently remain

When ready or not
Death claims a life dear
Without hope, without fear
May I simply remain

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, March 2015. All rights reserved.

Without Residue

One fervent wish
With the last breath
No feats to accomplish
No regret at death

One simple intent
No actions to deplore
Nothing left to repent
Just an empty store

One crowning bequest
No anguish or worry
No remainder but dust
No need to be sorry

One ardent desire
No sorrows to lament
No spite and no ire
A purse that’s spent

One tour de force
No harsh words to rue
No cause for remorse
No residue

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, November 27, 2014. All rights reserved.

As If

Out the door with a hurried “See you later”
as if I knew the sum of my remaining breaths
as if Starbuck’s could pour a perfect potion
to keep me safe in all lanes at all speeds
as if my briefcase were a magic shield
against malevolence and madness
as if I had immunity from germs and bombs
and earnest supplication might win
the hallpass of invincibility

Oh I know I will die someday
but not today and not for many tomorrows
as if I’d been promised untold awakenings
plenty of time to thank and forgive
to love and laugh, to play and pray

My edifice cracks but is slow to crumble
funerals bob on my calendar like buoys
in a swelling tide of exits
the blank space shrinks
on a bulletin board that enshrines
photos of deceased pets, kin and friends
glossy ghosts not dead to me
they murmur and crowd my delusion
as if they think I need reminding

Oh I know I will die someday
but not today and not for many tomorrows
I get in the car and turn the key
off to the races and betting it all
As if I am sure.

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, November 27, 2014. All rights reserved.


Hard to watch her
wan and wasting away
to see her grip slip
Hard to hear
her rattles and wheezes

Easy to miss
her forays and returns
Porter of insight
between camps
in ferrying ascent

Gaze transfixed
nearing the summit
A whispered gift
“There’s more going on here
than the physical.”

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, August 2, 2014. All rights reserved.

View from a Skydive

R375-G267-B256-EI414-ET00985-EG000Gravity’s child leaps
skin rippling in freefall’s rush
plummeting to new heights of bliss
Vista unfurls beneath canopied hush
seen clearly with altitude
at One with all that falls
into impartial embrace

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, July 26, 2014. All rights reserved.

Memento Mori

Thrumming chorus
Voice of summer swelter
Quiet woods go stereo
Leafing out in decibels
Heat bugs chide
Live! For soon we die.

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin. July 5, 2014. All rights reserved.

Don’t sigh over the day’s news
of untimely deaths and grievous loss
without cooing at birth notices
without echoing too the joy
of those smiling at the future
in wedding and graduation photos

Taste all that’s poignant and affecting
until the staccato of personal notes
blurs into a shimmering chord
harmonics bubbling past your lips
triads tickling your tongue
savor and swallow the resonance

Dare even to swallow yourself
your drama and your resumé
gone beyond your own event horizon
into the singing singularity
the intoning mother of all notes
the “om” of home

Copyright Deborah McGlauflin, February 15, 2014. All rights reserved.


Autumn expires when fiery maples shiver
Legions shed in a last hurrah of color
Retreating sun salutes the dizzying descent
Illumines what the weep of beauty meant

The fallen carpet every forest, field and town
Soon dry and brittle turns their past renown
Veterans all of summer’s fleeting favor
Pale reminders underfoot to savor, savor
Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, November 2013. All rights reserved.

Rule of Law

Karma’s net as it tightens
Invites the blind to see
Each situation quite perfect
In its implacable right to be

Impervious to protest
And deaf-eared to my cry
A patient conflux of
Causes that, by and by,
Effect their manifest way
A leaf tossed on the wind
Would have more say
Than this ephemeral “I”

Cobbled from past acts
A mere designation at best
Eons pass, alas, in delusion
Ancestral aching for rest

Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, October 13, 2013. All rights reserved.

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