My mind is sharp, and oddly enough,
I can see in all directions at the same time.
People’s mouths move, but there is no sound.
I rather enjoy not having to breathe.
The air seems, well, cleaner somehow.
After all the illness and pain,
I’ve taken a turn for the better,
and I’m doing quite well.
My unblinking eyes are easy on the lenses.
The memory of what is overhead is fading rapidly.
I stroll through my thoughts;
my body chooses to remain still inside this vault.
Being dead is a solitary exercise,
and I do so relish my solitude.
The firmament becomes obscured,
and I repose in state happily ever after.
Linda Imbler is a Kansas-based Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. Linda’s poetry and a listing of publications can be found at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com. She’s an avid reader, classical guitar player, and a practitioner of both Yoga and Tai Chi. In addition, she helps her husband, a Luthier, build acoustic guitars. Linda enjoys her 200-gallon saltwater reef tank. Linda believes that poetry truly adds to the beauty of the world. Much of this beauty she feels can be found in the night sky and, on warm nights, her telescope serves as inspiration for this belief.