The End To Its Shouting

Kurt Philip Behm

He died

in a whisper

alone

in its presence

 

The call of death

weaker

than what he’d

been told

 

Wading into its

shallows

each step

took him deeper

 

Reluctance

and acceptance

 both swimming

in turn

 

Each voice

every motion

he passed

toward the bottom

 

The pressure of

choosing

now

drifting away

 

In denial

and waiting

the past

floating above him

 

But the end

of its

shouting

— had finally begun

 

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

 

 

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Comments +

Comments3

  • sorenbarrett

    I love when I can't put my finger on why I love a poem and this is one but love it and feeling it gives I do. A fave

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    Another brilliant poem, Kurt. I love this one. Well done, dear friend! 🌹👏

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Thanks again, so much.



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