Death doesn't know ... knowing
looks. It can't look or feel
around for the answers to give you.
....... ........................ Its one
answer's ready, and it's going
back to a home with no back
rooms, no father or mother
who'd prepare them.
.. ............................. Rheumy
eyes close, and a closed-up energy
takes its leave from mass, one leaf
rising up from the attaching soil
to re-attach itself to light.
3 comments:
Wonderful - one of your best poems in a while, the way meaning and sound dance so well together. That "closed-up energy" leaving really gets at something.
Thanks William. I've been struggling with finding the time (and motivation) to write over the past few weeks, so it's good to get the positive feedback.
sometimes i feel the most important grace of this life is the way we belong to the wider ecology and return to it. a kind of belonging.
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