Observing Death with the Stoics

I walked with the stoics

to the cliffs of death

.

I peered over the same ledge,

down into the same ice black waters

.

and I tried so hard to breathe

in the rush of freezing ache

.

kicking and squirming and

trying not to make a sound

.

while they sat with their hands folded

and shed no tears

.

and I felt the whole thing

like a stake skewering me

to the funeral home seat.