take 15   It's been tough we're nervous a week out rehearsal after rehearsal    that would sound better    if it wasn't flat some undefinedfix hanging over our heads   Taking our little break something glues me to my chair I don't even walk out across the room instead, eyes slowly scanning there's a peculiar clarity. Every face talking laughing looking down in their laps    checking a phone or some of them eyes closed   At once two intense women —who knows what they're gossiping about— One facing me Dutch-boy haircut, dyed violent dark purple    small face    heavy horn rim glasses    The other woman leans in to say something    maybe semi-private Haircut's mouth takes a wicked curve downward open wide   Is it shock? Amazement? she's frozen that way for a few seconds then relaxes as if she knew she was being observed.    does it matter?   You weren't aware of the anguished face you aimed at me when I first saw you at the altar —50 years ago next week—     a seeking probing forelorn look.   Whatever else happened on our wedding day I captured that expression (fear or shock?) like a photograph.   It came to me just now     you looked the same in your coffin.     * * *     Whaa?   seriously reaching the end    of everything everywhere all at once some seconds into the credits   gobsmacked. a realization building   any dead person that comes up:    starting with my mother  my sweet old college roommate   my dad my guy   everybody from the past unspooling.   and myself—  as with others   sons family friends   anyone who'd be still around when I'm gone—   except not gone.   same for them as for me   rocks off the cliff  acceptance.    even less no physical contact   none of it  no reaching   no effort no distance no talk no agenda no plan   every angry word every thought    all transparent  available   present.