"For the Anniversary of my Death", by W.S. Merwin.

My favorite recent poem has been "For the Anniversary of My Death" by W.S. Merwin. This is an old poem, first published in 1963, yet its message is timeless: Merwin inspires us to reflect on what seldom crosses our mind. After all, such an anniversary awaits for every one of us. Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the silence will set out …

…which both together may better explain the "strange garment" of his life), "the singing of the wren", and the falling of rain, which, all together, evoke the enormity of life. It is to the enormity of life, for which he has no words, that he bows to, ending his poem in a gesture of humility. Or, perhaps, pointing us back to the title of the poem, the author is bowing to his premonition of death.