Declan Molloy Poet I do not know?

The Day Before

It was the day before 
the death,
when no one yet had died
That's the thing with mortality
filled with sad uncertainty
the day before the weeping
clay and rubber boot
of winter rain worn 
like evil coat 
on sallow back
curses from my youth

We once bowed as brothers
on the alter of the world
once sat as clams 
in the womb 
well we curled
Then between dark and dark
to the temporary light
in the company of living 
hopes, loves, empty delights
Imaginations drift
memories sift
while the breathing laboured
slowly slowly slowly slowly
the day before they died

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Funom Makama February 25, 2016 at 10:18 AM There is this unique insurance your works always give my expectations And that satisfaction only builds more castles for my curiosity to thrive, waiting for subsequent results of your talent and thinking.