This Mortal World

Written by: Caryl Muzzey

Flies swarm the dead corpse lying in the dirt.
A day passes without a flower or soft spoken word.
Footsteps approach, stop; shuffle back and forth, 
kick the soil then meander on. 
Blustery wind blows cold, whipping up debris 
then laying it atop the stiff body.
The night air sings a shrilling melody till the 
eyes of dawn.

Twilight yawns; a heap of compost now covers the 
lifeless soul, footsteps return and imprint the mound 
so neatly designed.
The cold wind cries as the trees stretch and bow in grief.
A stray dog, discovers the heaping debris and begins 
to dig; recovers a bone then runs away.
This mortal world numb to this unknown entity 
lying discarded on the freezing earth, unburied and

Copyright © 2004 By Caryl S. Muzzey