The Rescuer

loosened by his near fatal misstep,
       rocks, stones and gravel
plummet into the chasm with
       deathly finality,
into what seems to be the very
       maw of eternity;

with the thinnest thread of hope,
       he seeks the faintest signs
from vultures hovering, gliding slow,
       spiralling down,
their shadows on the precipitous
       sides of the canyon;

it dawns on him that when the earth
       finally claims its own,
one just has to let go, be he 
       a creature proud or low,
in life, nothing's lost or wasted,
       dying's just time to go!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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