Yet Another Poem About Death

by Mitchell Harding


Everyone is a musician except for me
Although I do own an accordion
And at one time I could play
Joy To The World.
I don't think that counts
But maybe it's a start.

Everything happens for a reason
Except death.
Apparently it has its own agenda
With neither rhyme nor reason.
If death operated by reason
That would be tragic.
That's what the musician said
Because his best friend died.
The clerk disagrees
And her father has brain cancer.

Proximity to death lends weight to their words
I guess.
It's hard to argue with
And musicians.

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