March 3: Contemplating Mortality, Robert Morgan, "Mountain Bride"

Perhaps because of the medical procedure I had today, I have been contemplating mortality a little bit.  Nothing maudlin.  Just reflecting on the tenuous nature of life.  We are here for six or seven or eight (if you're lucky) brief decades, and then we are gone.

I hope that I leave the world a better place when my time comes.  That's my goal.  I want to make some kind of difference in people's lives.  Make them happier.  More comfortable.  I think that's not an unreasonable expectation of a person. In fact, I think that it's something every human being should strive to accomplish.

Saint Marty also thinks everybody should eat chocolate every day.  Just saying.

Mountain Bride

by:  Robert Morgan

They say Revis found a flatrock
on the ridge just
perfect for a natural hearth,
and built his cabin with a stick

and clay chimney right over it.
On their wedding night he lit
the fireplace to dry away the mountain
chill of late spring and flung on

applewood to dye
the room with molten color while
he and Martha that was a Parrish
warmed the sheets between the tick

stuffed with leaves and its feather
cover. Under that wide hearth
a nest of rattlers,
they’ll knot a hundred together,

had wintered and were coming awake.
The warming rock
flushed them out early.
It was she

who wakened to their singing near
the embers and roused him to go look.
Before he reached the fire
more than a dozen struck

and he died yelling her to stay
on the big four-poster.
Her uncle coming up the hollow
with a gift bearham two days later

found her shivering there
marooned above a pool
of hungry snakes,
and the body beginning to swell.