A BREATH

What is death but a place
We all go
Some too early, some
Too slow, then...

For some, the sun did not
once shine
Returned at birth to gods
divine, while...

Some go knowing, other's
blind, no matter
For us all, it finds

And who can say which
second makes
The silent stop which never
wakes
Whose hand stops clocks?
Insists, dictates
The dead one that no more
intakes
A breath

M Price 10/1/21