Drawing by Judith Wolfe
Barry Southam

Poem


      THE QUESTION

      My emphysma friend
      while his spouse is out
      rings to inquire
      what does it mean
      when the photos
      of a terminally ill man
      start to disappear
      from around the house.

      Humour took the A train
      my tongue stayed suspended
      as the question wrung the neck
      of rhetoric. A quip about
      a visit to the Delphi oracle
      rose up, but faltered and fell.

      What would you have said ?


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