Death...

...by Jim Bronyaur
(part 2 of 5 of feature week w/ Laura Ebohon)

It’s been a good run…


As if bubbly rusted holes tear flesh away

As if the engine won’t start –

and all the little pieces break and shatter.

When the passing time deals its final winning hand

you aren’t the only one with fuzzy eyes…

but you do get the answer to the biggest mystery…

(what’s next?)

I can only imagine how feeble the feeling of failing must be –

to know IT’s coming… any second…

(breath in, breath out, breath in, breath…)

There is the trickster lurking –

the more evil hands of the clock

(the ones rubbing together –

creating sweat in the small lines of the hands –

as they reach for your neck…)

It happens more than you think.

(but so does good things…)

It happens more than you have ever thought about.

(it does.)

There will be a last good morning

There will be a last good night

There will be a last bloomed flower

- a last kiss

- a last moment you will never have back

I don’t make the rules.

I can only follow.

I am the piece of paper in the wind.

I am the autumn leaf that makes it through winter.

I am the blade of grass that will not be cut.

But no matter what I am or what I try

(or you)

Everything will end. Yes –

it will.