Cradling Death

Bruno died this evening; stroke or heart attack.
It was quick, actually, and I became quiet, morose.
There is no good death; there is only hollowness,
    complete unto itself.

I do not like the deaths of others, having seen
too much of it up close, the majority agonized,
wanton, useless, and painful to those who are
    witnesses or kin.

I was kin and witness as Bruno died this evening,
bringing up echoes of others, useless memories
that last too long and only serve to remind me --
    my own arriving soon.