#293
#293
by Kieran Borsden
I died today –
in caulked sand laid flat,
my chest attuned to the tide;
an apparition (of June
and the dark mastery)
of time bled into happier
(skies stolen by an hour beyond the lips)
melodic weightless ego –
dialogue in static serenades
as air is fed (by steel
and glass printed) with my name;
(through a scent evolved,
driven by a lone blossom grown)
the last in a chain-link fence
for the first time.
This poem reminds me of Japanese death poems. It’s as if your senses broaden and your awareness of the noticeable comes flooding in. I read, ‘what is Zen but the serious contemplation of life and death?’. It’s a thing anyone seeking happiness should ponder upon.
Thx for sharing!
Intriguingly elusive. The disconnected imagery and parenthetical distractions indeed communicate a sense of a life coming apart.
Just realized we posted this one twice. Ah well, will delete the other and enjoy this one today.