"Mortality" by Aparna Sanyal

Mortality

Aparna Sanyal 

At 84, I'll go.

Mortality’s philter and potions

would've lost their efficacy, I imagine

upon that twilit hour. 

Easier to fall swift and hard

than trundle down

wheelchair bound. 

For a few seconds to fly

like I have in many dreams-- 

higher ever higher

on a swing untethered from reality

--this would be a sudden, 

immaculate joy.

--Bathed in anti-crepuscular rays;

their convergence an illusion 

as much as life's purpose is--

Perhaps linear windfall will pull

the tears from me so swift, 

my eyes won't recognize, 

my face won't know

that I have cried. 

At 84, I'll go.

There is a certain neatness, 

package-bound beauty-- 

to write my epitaph exactly the way

I want, unyielding of control, even in 

that absolute finality. 

Perhaps the moue of surprise 

overtaking my mouth

will disgorge leaden care-boulders,

of a lifetime spent scrabbling for tiny joys

and relief; 

brandished mediocrity like a shield 

and beliefs like a spear--

at 84, I'll go.

Yes, I think I know.

Poet's Notes:  Old age scares me sometimes. Being at the halfway mark (I turned forty in 2017), I think about mortality sometimes (more than I did when I was twenty, for sure!). And I think, “wouldn't it be so much more simple, so beautiful, almost perfect, to go at a time and in a way of one's own choosing?” 

Editor’s Note:  Ah, the longing for the nearly impossible--a death with dignity if not with glory.  Aparna captures this natural human yearning perfectly with her beautiful poem, accentuated by assonances, consonances, and gentle rhymes throughout the piece.  Her judicious repetition of "at 84, I'll go" makes a nice refrain, and her choice to end in a rhyming couplet makes a strong finish for a powerful poem.