Last night I dreamt I was dying,
some disease where I�d start to die
and then stop for a day or two,
like engines trying to turn over,
pumps losing their prime�
doesn�t it work like that?
I didn�t tell the kids,
although my wife�melancholic, quiet�
she was there.
This morning I listened to parts of Verdi�s
Requiem and Brahms� Requiem;
if I have a chance, Mozart�s
Requiem is tomorrow.

Late afternoon, I�m with the kids in the park.
The ducks float by, barely paddling;
we tire of each other right away.
My kids are off over there�
basketball, swings, sweats�
and I�m lying on the grass
listening to Shostakovitch on earphones:
sometimes mathematics, almost tears.
An hour or so in the park
and it�s all so breezy, so quietly restless.
Here in our town we are breathing into summer,
and the sun goes down,
goes down a little later every day.



�2005 by John Eivaz