Ann Foster Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

Death Beside the Road

Death Beside the Road

Held in my arms, 
fragile you are... barely alive. 
I can feel your faint breath on my cheek. 
I can even somehow hear, 
your small heartbeat. 
Feather-light, that of a small bird...
Nearly stopped, almost gone. 

At what cost the weighted balance, 
of your soul?,
my soul?,
our measured worth...
Everything and nothing, 
given for something, 
no one wanted anyway. 
The world is confused. 
The season is not cold or hot, 
but the edge of heaven, 
is frozen space, 
the center of hell, 
an ever burning pit...
in the far north. 

The power of any man;
willing to drop to his knees, 
bow his head, 
plead his sin...
openly, 
humbly, 
repentantly...
before, 
God, 
ever has His ear. 
The angels He will send; 
swords of fire, 
wings of glory, 
His Son...
Brightest Star, 
in the skies;
both dark and light, 
day and night,
forever!

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Eric Ashford December 24, 2019 at 6:29 PM Thanks for this timely share Ann! Nicely penned.

Jenish Somadas December 23, 2019 at 11:58 PM our measured worth... Nice thought.. The poem conveys the emotions well.. When you start seeing things happening around you, small or big, in the right sense and meaning, you are ready to be a poet..

Sandra Adams December 23, 2019 at 9:43 PM so sad....i tried to help a squirrel that was injured by a car...he didn't die right away, he ran, tried to climb a tree and fell...he ran in a bush...i left him nuts and water, no one would come help this poor baby...his back or hind legs were broken... he hung around a couple days under the bush, then vanished...i am guessing he died...somewhere... i felt this one's sadness...it made me want to cry... hugs Ann Foster December 23, 2019 at 10:22 PM God takes care of all the small... Sometimes death has less sting while at other times, it is a terrible pain... without merciful end, or so it seems. But that is not death, that is misery. They are brothers, but not the same at all. Hugs... A cheerful night to you.