Touch of a Feather
the time will arrive when the upcoming
will be on the verge of present to past
my bones may creak under pressure of life
an ageing mind will be under threat of extinction
epitaphs may cast inevitable shadows
a fountain will struggle at the source
still willing existence into essence
but the ink in the pot viscously drained
note to Self is to scrape gracefully at
the barrel’s bottom to reach new heights
to shelter my own voice from blindsight
deafness of vision and to accept the light
of contentment with a shaky quill in my hand
only when my last word has been scripted
with everything said and no deed to be done
the flow of reason and feeling exhausted
and the reaper close to harvest and home
will I take the terminal bow and final good-bye
and accept that it will not be up to me any longer
to look after the worth of what future there is
02nd October 2021
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2021
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