Friday, July 17, 2009

burn and rave

death, like sex, is something the movies almost nearly always get wrong

for one thing: it doesn't pace itself toward the final frame

unlike its cousin birth it can't be clocked

the body heats to extremes like a rocket straining to clear the atmosphere

rattles and trembles from the effort of querying the cloud bank for safe passage

then settles to rest a while longer on the soft soil of home

(repeat)

1 comment:

anniemcq said...

This is so right on brilliant. I think grama would truly appreciate the art that you are finding in this experience. Bless you both.

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