July 7, 2021Poem
He stands on a corner
lossnaturecitymusictimemortality
He stands on a corner
In the shadow
Out from under the glow
Of a street lamp
As dark as night
Still as a breathless statue
At the foot of a bed
Silent as a graveyard
Beneath a full moon
Until the wolf howls
There is little comfort
In his cold stare
The icy touch of a finger
Feathering your brow
Long sharp nails
Tracing the contours
Of your struggle
The sweat of this long fight
No smile of recognition
Word of consolation
Pity or remorse
Even as the waiting dawns
The slip of death
Is not so tortured
Nothing known
Will be regained
It is in the dying
Where lies the pain
The wringing out
The moment lost
Life’s precious grip
So easily slipped
With his strong hand
The instrument of passing
He is death
And he waits silently
Beside you
Until the coming of the day