Vox Populi
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Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Late Afternoon Stroll on the Cliffs
As usual, Death sweetly slips her arm in mine—
& we take a deep breath from the eucalyptus breeze.
We both worked honestly at our jobs: all day Death
destroyed traffic with wailing ambulances while I killed
hours & lines on eight-&-a-half by eleven-inch pages.
We’re fast friends by now. Death much older of course,
but there’s no hierarchy between us: we’re both taking
a break from it all, glad to watch waves collapse on rocks
& pelicans dive-bomb fish. I try to be sensitive to Death’s
guilt: that whole pandemic disaster she can no longer
control. She’ll soon betray me too — like she will you.
I know. But today the gulls are silver angels etching
great cursive blessings in a perfect sky — so Death & I
make believe we believe that, & amble on.
~~~
Copyright © 2022 by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 15, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.
Laure-Anne Bosselaar’s recent books of poetry include Lately (Sungold Editions, 2024) and These Many Rooms (Four Way Books, 2019). She served as Poet Laureate of Santa Barbara until April 2021.
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When I read one of Laure-Anne’s poems, it always feels a little as though I have stepped onto a magical path … one that will lead me exactly where I need to go. So much to glory in here, and other readers have gestured to images I love, but I may be most grateful for the fact that Death is female in this poem, when the habitual image — or at least the Grim Reaper many of us in English-speaking cultures were introduced to — seems mostly to be male. I can’t conclude without taking note of the genius of this phrase, “I try to be sensitive to Death’s / guilt …” How much richness one of Laure-Anne’s poems adds to my day!
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A stroll with Death, ‘fast friends’ and ‘no hierarchy between us’. What a profound expression of ease in relationship with Death this poet has given us. May this poem offer some comfort to those who fear the inevitable approach of life’s ending. Grateful to you Laure-Anne.
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Yes, the poem is wise and beautiful.
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Such a lovely and powerful sonnet. “We both worked honestly at our jobs…” is stunning. Once again: Brava, Laure-Anne!
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A gladsome wistfulness casts these lovely lines, propels me to the setting in the garden of its effects that also live in the poets heart. Death is ever present and as we age and the horizon draws ever closer, one begins to understand it’s not going away. What can we do but at last make friends and invite it in to our thoughts like the hungry stranger still waiting at the door after so many days, as happens in this beautiful poem.
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