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November 4, 2016


death flows soft about me

its lovely form too near

far too alluring to escape

stands astride this narrow way

on which my life depends

I have not tripped nor fallen

as steps near skirt the verge

where life is held to hazard

the dance death always leads

no give-and-take, no dialog

but sudden gasping fall

relentless to destruction

if in life I am less than holy





all can be said against is “No!”

discussion fails, I am doomed

if in life I am less than holy


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Each New Day A Miracle
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