Shadow Boxing With Fate

Each moment grows Birth and death Shedding what was left The chrome piece of time Dangles like a wooden cross neck lace, passionate for death The stolen widow Her extensions outstretched From a windowless perspective The universe encircles in captive dance We are caught in every mired branch Still sleeping under the sun Talking heads prosaic in a pulpit Breathe heavy in the humid church casket Waiting to rearrange fate My child fingers grope slowly Politely, but still slightly disgraced To be told life may be elsewhere That heaven exists on the mantle That God shadows every step...