“Remember thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return.” Genesis 3:19
The air has a texture
thick and hot in my nose
that my lungs cannot accommodate.
I kick for the surface
but fabric is a far sight thicker
than water.
-
I am too young to be
wrapped up in this
where minute’s click
seems a loss
and getting older, no gain.
-
I am frightened,
but everywhere I turn
I hear shades whisper
“Such is life…”
and nothing more.
-
For our skins are our shrouds
And we are born in our burial cloths.
-M. Hale, 7/19/12