Edgar Lee Masters has his character Samuel Gardner speak from his grave in the Spoon River Anthology, "And how shall the soul of a man/ Be larger than the life he has lived?" All the poems in this volume are written in the voice of the deceased residents of the mythical community of Spoon River. Each time I read from this volume I find scenarios that fit well with contemporary life. There are heroes, cowards, town gossips, unfaithful spouses, community leaders, outlaws, in-laws, youths, elders, etc. The one thing they share is their end - the graveyard in Spoon River.
No matter who we are or think we are, one thing we share in real life is growing older, day by day, each time the world spins on its axis or circles the sun. It probably doesn’t matter if we call ourselves young, middle aged, or old since it’s such a gradual process. I sometimes wonder where I am on this continuum. The age of 65 used to be considered quite old and not much more life could be expected. Now it seems as if the term middle-aged fits better and old age lies somewhere off in the future.
Dylan Thomas in his famous villanelle Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night has probably written of aging and death the best: "Do not go gentle into that good night,/ Old age should burn and rave at close of day;/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light." In other words, give it hell, there will be the eternity to sleep.
