Monday, January 19, 2009

death dwells in her thoughts

her life stands, bears witness
to the whispers of aging voices
like the wind rustling through browned leavse
time touches her slowly,
tracing each curl before settling
as cold felt in her knocking joints

she moves at first unsure then into a dervish
giving up only when the sun denies her
the hope of new light
she takes the shape of every woman, each woman
forgone by chance and skipped by fate
her life stands, bears witness.
her own witnessed by none.

2 comments:

anonant said...

Wow!
"her life stands, bears witness
to the whispers of aging voices"
This is incredible writing!
peace

cargwaps said...

thank you anonant. :) i appreciate the praise.