Tag Archives: dying

I Shall Go Gentle

Posted on February 27, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: This is my meager answer, for today anyway, to Dylan Thomas’ iconic poem–jrs) Do not fear this, my child. I shall go gentle, I shall not rage, I shall escape this delightful cage. It has served me well, this … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, American Indian, Consciousness, end-of-life, family, parents, Poem, Speculative Fantasy | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

A Question for Cheryl

Posted on February 11, 2014 by Jim Stewart

I should have knelt in the street, put my head in your lap, and let you stroke my hair. But we didn’t know. We were ten. Would you have grown into a woman who found a cure for what killed … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Consciousness, end-of-life, family, memory, Poem, Slice of Death | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Silly Old Cat

Posted on January 25, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Silly old cat. You almost made it to twenty. What is that in cat years? You never gave in to mere affection and were loathe to suffer a belly rub. You drew blood from the uninitiated. Maine Coon and who … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, end-of-life, parents, Poem, Slice of Death | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Coyote Ruins a Dog

Posted on December 23, 2013 by Jim Stewart

On the other side of the fence was chaos and death, at least that’s how it seemed when the dog took off and scared that squirrel right out of his thick fall fur and into the coyote’s grinning mouth. The … Continue reading →

Posted in American Indian, Cheyenne, cowboy poetry, Coyote, Dream, Lakota, memory, Oregon, Poem | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Dead-end Dad

Posted on December 3, 2013 by Jim Stewart

Flags wave in the breezy dark as houselights shine for no one. Across the street below, tired ghosts dance on closed garage doors. My cigar glows and ash sticks to my shirt. The wind tries to brush it away, but … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, family, Poem, Slice of Death, Slice of Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Follow the Light

Posted on November 15, 2013 by Jim Stewart

Shadows beginning to form as the light brushes your window. Sunrise just moments away, I can hear the dawning wind blow. Moving across the moon, a flight of albatross, they follow the light and go home. Your body’s as thin … Continue reading →

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