Monday, January 21, 2013
A Revolutionary Death -- Sue M.
By Sue M.
Ding dong, the witch is dead.
Dear mother has gone the way of all flesh
Insulting to the last.
She died a revolutionary’s death
Singing La Marsaillaise, 95 year old arm raised in a fist
From her languishing death bed
Feet dancing, mouthing the words
Aux armes, citoyens
Marchons, marchons.
And so we do, march on.
Raising revolutionary children
And grandchildren
And great grands.
With love for all
But me.
I arrange her memorial
Bring the grands and great grands
Invite old friends and comrades
Family and far reaches
Celebrating the life
Of a tenant organizer
Of a union organizer
Of a communist
Of a basketball jock
Celebrating her life
Celebrating her fortitude
Accomplishments
Integrity
Learning more about her
From others who respected her
And she them.
A new viewpoint of respect
Celebrating who she was
To them.
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Thanks so much for contributing this, Sue.
ReplyDeleteSue, I have found this poem coming to mind a number of times since I read it. I love how you give us a new way to think about life and death here. Rather than the images of decline and despair or of only indulging in the comfort of the senses without much purpose beyond that, you show us a triumphant inhabitation of life, every fiber and moment of life.
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