Too Many of Us . . .

     I hear a shaking of wings.
     When I open my eyes, what I see
     is what I see no more.—Cavafy

The gentle ones retreat into the dark
without a flourish.
They leave behind a smile
naked and surprised.

Their kind eyes are embarrassed;
death is not only tragic; it is tactless; 
it reminds of everything the living want to forget.

The line of footprints in the sand
stops here . . .
                       But how can this be? 
As though a hawk
(or an angel, if you believe in angels)
fell, seized the walker with its talons,
then soared away with him into the sky.


for Carlos Ramirez, Stephen Mackin, Don Brennan, Stephen Kopel,  Iván Arguëlles, and Marvin R. Hiemstra



Christopher Bernard is a San Francisco poet, writer, and essayist.