The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Releasing the Dove

I never thought I’d even half enjoy this,
but kick and curse and scream instead.
I shouldn’t end this way,
but I’m too tired to fight.
I don’t want to die.
Despite its unavoidability
it offends me, seems unfair.
While I know better theoretically,
its logic reconciles with its biology,
but there’s more me
than I ever thought there’d be.
God damn the pain,
just don’t damn me;
when that gets worse
that will be the problem,
not regret.
Yet when I fancy
freedom of the flight of falling,
flying gently toward the dream
and imagine softness, landing,
I release reluctance,
loosen and relax
my stubborn grip on life
and finally let go,
perhaps I’ll recognize
something like the instant
of having fallen sound asleep.


580 ®Copyright 1976 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.