Bogdan Dragos, this post is for you

Today I came across a fascinating poem which reminded me of Interrupted, something I began during Covid but could not find what I was looking for. The magical power of suggestion found in Bogdan’s she died by the time childhood ended is exactly what I wanted–I just didn’t know it. You can read Bogdan’s poem here, and next are my thoughts on this vespertine lyric.

It’s Schrödinger’s cat wrapped up in art as if sculpted by Michelangelo on his best day

It is a modern existential lyric in the surrealist tradition, composed in restrained free verse and reads like Schrödinger’s cat rendered in verse—an exploration of uncertainty, consciousness, and transformation—wrapped in the kind of artistry one might expect if Michelangelo had turned to poetry on his most inspired day. It stands suspended between states: life and death, waking and dreaming, real and imagined. The girl from the shade is both maternal figure and metaphysical idea; the whistling both lullaby and flatline. With sculptural precision and emotional restraint, each image is carved into the page rather than merely written, revealing a depth that rewards quiet contemplation. It is not only a meditation on mortality, but also an argument that what we believe to be illusion may, in the final moments, become our only reality.

The beauty in the words flows with grace and subdued pace. Contemplating them reveals a magic, let me show you what I mean:

He dozed off into the warm sun sets a tranquil scene. He’s relaxing, maybe even sleeping, but there’s a tension: the shade at his head / but not touching him—as if death is approaching, near, but not yet arrived.

It was her hand that touched him introduces a figure—the girl from / the shade—which could symbolise death or some archetype of comfort. She’s maternal, nurturing: she breastfeeds a child, she whistles wholesome tunes. There’s both sensuality and innocence in this image.

The girl he knew was not real / but no longer cared—this is crucial. He knows she is a vision, maybe a figment of his imagination or a hallucination as he slips into unconsciousness. But by now, he no longer cares—he has let go.

As the light above him / was shaded by heads looking down on / his face—this places us beside his body. Others are gathered around him, implying he is physically dying—perhaps outdoors, as people gather to mourn or tend to him.

The whistling grew / into a single interminable note—a masterful line. The comfort of her music gives way to the flat, continuous sound: the note of a flatline. The emotional tone pivots here, from ethereal dream to stark finality.

He knew she will / soon be real—this is the final paradox. She wasn’t real in life, but she will be in death. She represents whatever the dying man is moving toward: peace, a memory, an afterlife, or simply nothingness personified.

Everything will be—a beautifully suspended ending. This last line evokes a metaphysical calm, or perhaps a return to unity. The verb “to be” is left without an object, suggesting completeness beyond definition. It’s one of those endings that feels like both a full stop and an opening door.