“My suppositions were all in vain…”
“Death, in approaching him, had stalked with his
black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim.”
from “The Tell-Tale Heart”, by Edgar Allan Poe
Why, dead friend, do you live?
Are you a wild wind wafting through a chimney flue,
are you a mouse on paws and nails
behind incessant scuttle in wall’s boards and dust,
are you the solo of a cricket seeking its duet?
Were you a robber? I asked, “Who’s there?”
These were my final words my lips would ever share.
Neither cages nor traps to hold you before I die
muffled in suffocation under my bed I cry.
My suppositions were all in vain for my only caretaker: silence.