Ready or Not

Frankly, we respond differently
To a particular version of death

Than we do to abstract death or Death
Personified, to say nothing of distant

Deaths. The body seizes up, confronted
With the thought of a specific dying,

And philosophical comfort shrinks
Into a crumpled cloak, discarded—at least

Until we make our peace, if we’re given
Enough opportunity, if the specific

Becomes the determinate, not just
Distinctly possible but definitely ours.

Then, and only then, we may pick up
Our cloak, wrap ourselves in its folds,

And get ourselves ready to go.