Old Friend
An epistolary poem for one of life's certainties.

Hello, death. I got your message. I found the gift. The possum on the roadside whose pouch I checked for babies; colder than air. Emptier, too.
Even through my glove, I felt the gentle give and stretch of her. Even through my revulsion, I felt grateful to find nothing more.
Never am I more intimate than with your pets. When I roast a chicken, I get under her skin. I rub her with butter and pack her in salt and dress her in mourning herbs.
I honor you with grease on my fingers. I proffer you a pesky fly who drifts above my reach. I feel your touch at the edge of the stairwell; in the wound that festers; when the knife slips.
But when I saw a fox with tattered fur and called for you, the man who answered said only if she bit a foolish hand, or frothed when she snarled, would he take up your mantle.
Hello, death, you rascal. I know you feed me, in butcher shops and bad dreams.
I know you met the mangey fox in winter, and she licked the bones of your fingers until they were clean.
I know the patch of lawn where the possum rotted grew back stronger.
I thought I saw your face in my Uncle's bedroom, and it was kind.
About the Creator
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Comments (10)
I echo Poppy's words. Like...yeah...you are supremely talented...whenever I dip into your writing I'm always left feeling...thinking and also, finding it inspirational too for my own writing. Well done on this...I loved the flow, the thoughts and the feelings - just, stunning, Suze.
I HAVE MISSED YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!! It felt like I was in withdrawal when you hadn’t posted in awhile😂 I meant to read this way sooner but it it’s been a hectic few days. It’s also in the back of my mind to read In the Name of Love asap!!! This is just so unique (in an amazing way) as all your writing is. I can’t put it into words. But that last line was extra extra amazing. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, I need a poetry book written by you in my hands!!
This is so good Suze, it made me think of the cycle of life. The last line made me sad but not in a bad way. Great job
Goodness this was beautiful and a little brutal but in the best way possible. I love it.
This broke my heart so much 😭 But that last line, that gave me hope.
I think that pieces written about death and how we develop a unique relationship with it is always so interesting. As a therapist, when I discuss existentialist topics with them, death is always one they tend to steer clear from, despite it's inevitability. I'm happy to see someone is having a play with it in this way.
In our childhood, death is seen as the enemy. How long it takes for death to become our friend depends upon us.
Oh, wow. This gave me a good kind of chills.
Death is not such a bad old stick, really ❤
Oh my days. Just as I am relaxing with my morning/mourning coffee. Stirring and sinisterly beautiful.