The first cry
Is struggle
I passed through all stages
Toil and sweat
Achieved and retired
I look myself
In mirror full length
Is this me?
I asked.
Years telling
Grandfather white head
Skin wrinkles
I waited
It came
And I die.
Funeral rituals done
Remains in shroud
For the cemetery
Put in grave
Sand topping
My final home
Other things
This point beyond
Not known
S.K.B. Lazarus
EDITOR’S NOTE
Originally published in Citizen on 14 Feb 1994, p. 38. This diplomatic transcription preserves the wording and lineation visible in the archived page.