September 19-20, 2019


its not so much I feel Ive died

as that living has no feel at all

not even that life has no colour

is become pastel in place of oil

joy is known, though less robust

ephemeral more than morning mist

which danced upon a sunny breeze

bless burdened soul by gentle buss

and promise grace of greater bliss

as death that struggles so with life

must itself at last give way to LIFE!


A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2021

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