THE DEATH OF POETRY
It will not be an accident.
It will not be premeditated cold-blooded murder.
It will not meet a violent end.
And it will not be suicide despite all the threats.
Poetry will die peacefully, alone, at home, of natural causes.
Its heart will give out, and it will just be gone,
like the spectacular roses we didn’t take care of.
Poetry will die the way old men do on park benches.
No one will notice it’s missing at first,
but after a while, someone will notice a bad smell.
No one will claim the body.
Its next of kin, music, having died years ago.
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Nominated for the National Book Award, the Eric Hoffer Book Award, and nominated three times for the Pulitzer Prize, J.R. Solonche is the author of more than 40 books of poetry and coauthor of another. He lives in the Hudson Valley.
