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...
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