“Every man dies, not every man really lives”
                                                - William Wallace in Braveheart 

I listen to “Freedom”
the piece you composed for the execution scene
while I edit a student’s paper
but the words on the page blur
then disappear
behind an image of William Wallace
lying on the table where he will be drawn
and quartered  
before a crowd of hungry onlookers who
captivated with his inevitable end
cheer
then swayed by his valor
shift and cry out for mercy
mercy!
while the bagpipes and bodhran
deftly tug on my heart  
and the strings steer me to the brink
of sorrow
only to halt—
and make way for the angelic choir
as the axe falls 

Meanwhile you
my dear composer
are flying up there
in your very own
turboprop fighter trainer
where you conduct
aerial maneuvers
your plane like a baton
that beckons the wind
to sing through the pinyons
directs the junipers
to bow in reverence
to their maestro
as you dive into the canyon
and nod to the manzanita
their twisted red branches
adding color to the orchestra before you
then soaring back toward the sun
your single engine roars a crescendo—
before you dive once more
into the canyon below
its eroded maze of pastel walls
a complex composition
so hypnotic you don’t notice 
the dry creek bed
rising up to meet you

And I have to wonder
what score
like a heartbeat
accompanies the scenes
from your life
the people and places
that play through your mind
in those inescapable final seconds
before your plane
and your hopelessly fragile body
slam into the ground
with such beautiful blunt force  
that it inspires the flames
the painted aluminum shards
to rise up into the air—
in one last
standing ovation

Elisabeth Harrahy is an Associate Professor of Biology at the University of Wisconsin- Whitewater. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Wisconsin People and Ideas, Bramble, Sky Island Journal, Gyroscope Review, Blue Heron Review, 3rd Wednesday, The Café Review, Ghost City Review and elsewhere.