Birth:
the long,
clean,
feathered
pen,
dipping into the
just-filled cup of ink.
Life:
the deft,
curious strokes,
lying,
breathing
into the canvas
all the wonder
of emotion.
Death:
the splatter painted handle,
the feather-losing fray,
the crippled wrist of occasion,
with the upward stroke, instead of down.
the blot of black,
in the all white nothingness.