"Stop hanging yourselves!" I say to them
Looking up, from the comfort of the bed.
I untangle their necks from their ties,
And wipe their bright eyes.
They never reply--to me at least--but,
If they should, they would soon say
"I am sorry, sir." "It was the wind!"
"My necktie was swept away.." and,
Silence
From the fourth contender, for it
Had been choked far too long to speak.
And I am in the early stages
Of grief, on this bed,
Down the corridor of the building
And to the right. I feel I am
Among them,
Struck with guilt,
Hanging by my own necktie;
Choking--louder
--CHOKING
Author notes
.i feel frozen
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