Death
I can feel death leaning in close, it’s hot breath on my cheek. This heavy air, to choke the light. I can feel it on my skin, needles on the back of my neck, and the line between this place and the next is stretching thin as we stand huddled together for comfort. And I don’t know how this full room can leave me feeling so empty, I don’t know how the wake of it can be so numb. I am ready for the after, like standing close to the tracks as the train cars rush by one by one by one… Waiting to feel left behind, as time rushes past, we stand still, close as we can to that stretched line, knowing we can’t stay long. Just to rest a while as we remember, knowing we will be back here, to try to feel that sense of loss. We would all come running, hands above our heads, holding our grief. And we meet showing our tears, and as pain touches pain and we feel less alone. The line between this place and the next is stretching thin as we stand huddled together, close as we can to those old tracks.
