A Falcon, a Cobra, a Pedestrian, and Art of Death

A Falcon It swoops. Its eyes are a pair of visual images of wildness. Its micro-mind stretches into voracious rapture while soaring with its prey. A Cobra It wriggles within the claws, a closed space for discharging opposite energies – to eat, to exist. A Pedestrian The cobra slips out and lands on his shoulder. Winding, it bites on his neck. Already a half- carcass, it succumbs. Later, he too. A meandering death – from the sand through the air, then straight down to his neck out of the blue. Art Of Death Death seems an art in diversity. Ultimate charm of creation is in its abstract end. Many make it awkward with anxieties arising from blood and gold; a few, serene through realization. First published in Skylight 47, Ireland