(24 January 1961 / South Africa)

No More As Usual

We walk hand in hand with Death every day
We just never noticed him before
Pretending we had control, no such thing as
Chance.

But now we know
And that’s not a bad thing
To see Death in the mirror
Like a gentle reminder, stuck on the refrigerator.

Me, I tip my hat to him and try to stay out of his way
And each and every glorious day, I thank him for not
Intruding.


(Previously published in No Alibi Press, Feb.2002)

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