Oblivious

(For Ron Padgett inspired by one of his poems)

I know a man who died while writing a poem.

Or perhaps it was not the man at all but his wife
who died while the man wrote a poem about her.

She was stuffing a hen humming a tune
oblivious as death arrived. She tumbled backwards
upon the linoleum floor, her right hand clutching
onto one more chance at filling an empty cavity.

I know a bird that died in flight for the bird
flew right into my open window as I drove down
the Florida Turnpike at 80mph humming to the radio
oblivious as death fell upon my lap and white feathers
settled upon the black dashboard.

I know.