Summing Up

The Charles Meditations, Part 6

For one moment
two days before the funeral
alone in the chapel
your casket near the altar
I saw you moving like an art collector
among the two-dimensional
pictures of your finished life, event
after event recorded there in the soft
akasha where such memories
are kept in all their livingness
walking in speculative appraisal
as in a museum, noting like a connoisseur
that incident, this trauma, that delight
when abruptly you cried out, I was the painter
and now I must become the picture!

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