Register to Receive Plaza Blog Posts

AVAILABLE 24 HOURS A DAY AT 212-769-4400

When everything that ticked —has stopped. By Martin Willitts, Jr.

It is not anything that stopped; but me.
It was not Death’s hearse of autumn leaves
slowing down to find my Last Testament.

If I made the smallest dent, I hope it was with Love.
Nothing in this reflective silence is long enough.
Nothing stops ticking in order to speak of me.

I came into the world with nothing except in Love;
and I leave behind nothing of value except Love.


Categories: Plaza Poetry Picks



Speak to a Funeral DirectorCommunity Outreach ProgramsGeneral Inquiy