Passing

I know I am going to die, 
but I do not know at all when.

And will my life be satisfied and complete? 
But it will not matter anymore then.  

(09.04.2026)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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Smith  Avatar
September 4, 2026 at 8:32 PM
A beautifully spare meditation on mortality. The plain, almost conversational phrasing gives the uncertainty real weight, while the closing thought lands with quiet finality. The paired rhyme of “when/then” gently contains a subject that cannot truly be contained.
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