Drowning
When the boney branches of death
Grab at your clothes
And tear at your flesh
And force you to stare at your fate...
What would you do?
This is the memorial
This is the Premonition
Here, the dirty sidewalk
Is polluted, here they find
The chill of a body
Past dead
Life taken by its own hand.
Fear of Falling
Can we cross these unavoidable bridges?
Constructed of twine and splinters?
Will the path that stretches beyond fall from under us?
And if my fee t touch the ground that seems so far
Will I want to come back to the other side?
Will I need to?
We stand before a bridge
We hesitate before a bridge
Breathing cautiously
Brains cluttered with abstract fears. Woe!
Our gruff, raspy voices,
Our cries to each other
Are muffled and strangled
Like the dying victim
Or broken bodies behind iron bars
inside our hollow Torsos.
Wood without nails, Railing without safty, Bridge without structure.
