A Humorous Death

Distance stretches
to the horizon,
over the edge
is the distance down.
I am over
Falling slow as a feather.

My past passes me,
painfully.
It is a long way,
the bottom.
In the mortuary of mind
lay my ancestors
arms open and calling.
The dying left in me
will not speed its entirity
towards the inevitable.

>> <<

My ancestors are laughing now.
Applauding joyfully,
glad that I am released
from the restrictions of being.

by Sally Plumb Plumb

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Comments (1)

I like this one Stuart