Pay The Man

This is my last nite on earth
he said, as if he knew where
he was going. She said that
is Earth defined – like some-
where you expected to be.

Without your concession
he says, it may well be less
than permanent; the tears
are signs of life shared, any
stray drops bring changes.

Don’t cry for me she says, I
left you when penitents were
paid to make observations;
my hysteria is mine alone,
pay the man – and be quiet... 
© 14 May 2009, I. D. Carswell