18th prompt of the poem-a-day challenge, the prompt was two for Tuesday, and is Life and Death. I have been rereading American Gods by Neil Gaiman, and was pondering the funeral home of Ibis and Jaquel. They mused on how sanitary death had become. That people are protected from the sight of death, even so far as apparently-empty gurneys with the body lying hidden in a lower level so nobody becomes upset. The morgue is hidden away, the bodies are made to look good, and then they are safely taken away.
I found it an interesting insight on our culture, when so many are so afraid of looking older, youth is the drug of choice, and age and death are dirty words.
Life and Death
Life and death, inextricably entwined,
for every living thing must one day die
from the smallest life, the tiniest kind
to the oldest bristlecone pine by-and-by.
But humans have sanitized even death,
scared to see even a peaceful demise
let alone watch the sad struggle for breath,
of someone they love as they agonize.
No, death is so clean now, most of the time.
Even crash victims are cleaned and covered
and made pretty, as if death were a crime
and the victims had somehow recovered.