Poetry by Miller Williams
When people are born
we lift them like little heroes
as if what they have done
is a thing to be proud of.
When people die
we cover their faces
as if dying were something
to be ashamed of.
Of shameful and varied heroic things we do
except for the starting and stopping
we are never convinced
of how we feel.
We say oh, and well.
Ah, but in the beginning
and in the end.