The Day After Your Death

The day you died

The world slowed down.

The day you died

Objects lost their familiar substance;

Colors dulled, deprived of your presence.

The sun shone longer and

The day took longer to end.

Flowers curled up in their grief

And God ceased being our savior and withdrew.

The day you died

Sunset was without its glory.

The day after your death

The sunrise had no comforting preamble.

The birds forgot how to sing;

They sat on the ground, steadily pulling out feathers.

The day after your death

Winds died, leaving the earth stagnant

No clouds formed to shelter from the sun;

Crops withered and died with no seed.

Workers walked off their jobs;

Cities were abandoned and left to decay,

Newspaper blew away like dried-out leaves.

The day after your death

Books stopped telling their stories.

A week after your death

The moon stopped pulling on the seas;

The waves silenced and were no more.

The water became as quiet as a discarded tomb.

All the dolphins sat listless on the surface;

There were no fish to interest them.

The whales stopped their migrations and love songs,

Sank to where their eyes no longer needed to open.

Rock stopped being ground down.

A week after your death

The ice increased its fall.

A year after your death

The swollen sun pulled our planet into its skin;

Dust-filled wastelands burning away in yellow flames.

Cities, no more than crumbled downs, steamed and dissolved.

Sol, with no stabilizing force, then slips

Drawn to its neighbor and scatters gravity fields.

The cataclysm spread throughout the sky;

Red giants swallowing new nebulae.

A year after your death.

Verifying that which you suspected –

Everything really did revolve around you.

Ariel

Aug 12, 2010

I wrote this a few months earlier. Don't you hate fore-shadowing in life?