Two Poems by Aaron W. Hillman


Heart Attack

He fell to the floor in a coma.
Was comatose for months.

He dreamed.
He went places.
Did things.
Experienced great joy.
Experienced deep sadness
  of times and events.

He sat at a window.
Watched the seasons change.
He took the train.
Traveled the country.
Observed events.

These were the dreams
  of the man grown old;
  of the man whose body
  was forsaking him.

He leaves the satisfaction
  of the coma and comes
  to the place where all worries
  are.

The Roles of Life

We humans are not one thing,
we are many things.
We are not victims
of the hazards of life.
We are in the way,
and play what we
have been taught to play.

People are free to
make choice and the
choice is a role we like.
In our skulls
we are born alone,
live alone,
die alone,
and when we hear
the heavy step of the
end of our lifetime
we play the role of age.

We are collections
of roles we have
learned to play
and chose to play.

My name is Man and Woman.
That is my role, my life.


Aaron W. Hillman