On the subject of death
Drawn along the cavalcade
teardrops of emotion, pool
inside tender travelled time.
Dying will become death
past lives sketched in arum lily
white permeation in darned colour offshore.
Gaunt faces follow whispers
among tall trees that shimmer.
Rain quietly waits...
Birds keep doing the bird thing
chirping whistles hide on little branchlets
Un-adjusted volume echoes high above.
.Cavalcade draws near now, where death
is to go
cyclic remembrances stand inside my
minds cenotaph.
Later we stand quietly to sing another
of David's psalms
