Endings


	Things do not explode,
	they fail, they fade,

	as sunlight fades from the flesh,
	as the foam drains quick in the sand,

	even love's lightning flash
	has no thunderous end.

	it dies with the sound
	of flowers fading like the flesh

	from sweating pumice stone,
	everything shapes this

	till we are left
	with the silence that surrounds Beethoven's head.


 	- Derek Walcott