When death reaches me there will be a marigold of fire brilliant as an eye

opening in the palm of my hand.

There will be a light rain of singing as I am carried down river in a boat of leaves.

When I die there will be one second of fear as when Carol reaches out at night

to lay her hand on the soft of my throat.

Fear will leave that quickly as when she rolls against me in our bed.

Even now I hear a voice like three creeks woven into one

with a skin of ice across it.

I see a circle of river rock with a fire burning inside it like an open


This is one kind of happiness.



One thought on “DEATH IS COMING

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s