Final thoughts

If I die a good death, will the last thing I see
flashing through the depths of my waning mind
be the top ten moments in my effervescent life?
Fair rides, Christmases and New Year’s Eves,
parties, festivals and riotous revelry.
Favourite meals and savouring the juiciest red wines.

Should I die a sickly death, will my mother materialise
To stroke my hair attentively and lay cool flannels on my burning brow?
Will I revisit the sterile clinics and wards that once treated me?
Before I am taken down, free from fear of maladies and germs,
having finally achieved complete immunity.

What if I die a gruesome death,
Will I remember the night when I was followed home?
Or the day when I fell in the park; smashing up my arm and knee?
Will my slow walk to the distant passing place
be guided through the gloomiest, shadowy lanes
with Freddy Krueger for my only company?

I may well die an unusual death – trapped in the airing cupboard
Or choking on a dragonfly as I call to my long-lost lover who I spot across the street
Would this cause my head to wildly spin at life’s anomalies?
Like when I met an angel brandishing a fully loaded gun,
who helpfully confided it would be wise for me to run,
if anything should kick off in our vicinity.

And if I suffer an untimely death, will I picture my bucket list?
And feel sadness for wishes unfulfilled. The items left unchecked.
Will the pages of the brochure, heavily thumbed but nothing booked,
Lay open in my thoughts for that fleeting eternity
until I succumb to the sense of my own regret?

I want to die a first-rate death
Wrapped in the warm blankets of my accomplishments,
Sporting a sense of true belonging and the loftiest of pride.
Having enjoyed an ample share of the vicissitudes of life.
Feeling no need to wade out into the sea of final thoughts,
as my loyal friends and loved ones stand stoically at my side.