“The Sea, Lifeblood of Chilean Towns, Turns Deadly” (Robert Moyer)

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makeshift morgue
she kneels by the body
his hand in hers

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Headlines:

“The Sea, Lifeblood of Chilean Towns, Turns Deadly” (New York Times)

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Poem by Robert Moyer (see poet biographies). Read more by this poet.

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^ 2 Comments...

  1. James Tipton

    This is a touching poem, Robert. I remember coming across a car accident in western Colorado some years ago. Rescue workers had already arrived. The wife was stretched out, perhaps dead, at least unconscious, and her elderly husband was at her side on his knees, his hands clasped together praying. He reminded me of those prairie dogs in positions almost similar, at the side of the road, after losing a mate to a passing vehicle.

    I live in Latin America, and one thing I like about death here is that the corpses are tenderly cared for by loved ones, washed and prepared. Since there is no embalming they must legally be buried in this tropical climate within 24 hours, and so at death everything suddently goes into motion…to contact family and friends, to organize the funeral, the plot, and so on.

  2. Robert Moyer

    Thanks for the comment; I was stunned by the picture with the article which your comment articulated for me. Death in cultures outside of the U. S. Have an intimate relationship with death that belies Bruno Bettelheim’s observation that Americans embrace Eros and deny Thanatos.

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