You remember how the lens squeezed
unimportant details into stillness:
the essential trail of rain down glass,
the plummet of autumn-dead leaves,
your grandfather’s last blink when
the breath moved on.
Your startled hands compressed
the shutter when you realized: this is it,
this is the last movement he will take
away from the silent fall of morphine,
beyond the soft gasp of the nurse,
past the sick, slow thud of your heart
moving in the luminous silence.
© 2005 Christine Klocek-Lim — This poem appeared on the Guardian Poetry Workshop’s shortlist in December 2005 for Lucy Newlyn’s exercise on “inscape” poetry.
Christine Klocek-Lim 
To me, this may be the finest of your poems…that I’ve seen. Fantastic.
how beautiful — no more words needed
A very, beautiful write about death.
ditto all the above!
this is moving. thank you so much for your comments. i appreciate them 🙂
Thank you so much, everyone. I really appreciate you taking the time to come by and comment.I posted this as an experiment, but didn’t quite get the rest of it up yet. Hope to have an audio recording of me reading this in a day or so. . . Have to wait for my tech guy (dear hubby) to help. 🙂
This is a painful piece – so true and full of the escape of life.
Your poetry is verry good . I did enjoy reading it and the pictures are good, did you take them?
Nick, thank you for reading. :-)David, I’m pleased you enjoyed the poems. And yes, I’ve taken all the photos on the blog. Thank you for asking!