SQUEAKIN’ THRU WITH A D-
Thinkin’ a lot about Death lately.
I don’t know. No one knows.
How boring it most likely is.
No nothing. No thought.
No pluck on the guitar string.
No bird call.
I have some thoughts about Life—
how there is a spirit of the living
that visits some more, some less.
How when it comes it surprises so
startling us from our sleep.
“If you eat of this fruit
you will surely die.”
We surely did.
Death may be harder to escape
than the ol’ mundane.
Is Death populated?
Spirits hanging out like old coats
musty, bonded by evaporating memory
and if you, or I, or Life, were to touch one
would it disintegrate with a puff:
remnants and dust?
Living, women praise the creation,
worshiping, perhaps, the Mother;
the men, those that care, reach forever
for the something behind the everything.
I called my doctor on the phone.
He was surprised to hear from me.
I said I didn’t die
but I couldn’t say what saved me.
skykinwrite 