The Time of Death

The question from the nurses:
“what was the time of death?”
I have been asked that enough times
That I do now sometimes look at the clock
Before I am asked.
I think about that moment
When it happened
When the final breath left
And the heart quit beating
Must be written somewhere
And everywhere
Such an important time it must be
The time of death

But the “time of death”
is a misnomer
It cannot be
for it is the end of time
At least for one
How can there be a time 
For the end of time?
When you are out of string 
There is no string
You can’t say:  “be sure to tie a string around your finger,
when you run out of string. 
Then you will remember to buy string.”
But then the analogy breaks down.
As all do, it is death we are talking about
Speech is gone
Thought is gone
Theories are gone
Life is gone
The person is gone

But still I am called
To pronounce the “time of death”
As if I the doctor
Have a magic key
To an invisible box
Wherein this life will hide
As long as I give it a time