“ I always thought that a line should leave the page with extended claws, a sweet and sudden rage.”
Not every one leaves the same way. Shot. Heart attack, muck
Under a fast and speeding car. Knife. Drowning
All are places and seconds when the moving stops
And the face slowly softens then the eyes stare.
Every night somewhere, some one is going away
Dark alley , dark drugs , dark pain in parks and
Streets and bush and working girl hallways
While a neighbour is watching T.V.
Or flirting with a cop on the next street
Spiders pass by and do not bite until they
Are ready and then, at the right time
Place , its done and its over and
They move on.
Night and day the wings go up and down in
Seas and ponds and picnic places while the
Dying just lay down to sleep
Lay down their dreams and slip away.
© Copyright, 2013, d.n. simmers.