Life And Death
.
.
.
Life And Death
It’s just before dawn,
my tea is lukewarm,
and around my lamp
a nameless horde
of self-exhausting
insects swarm.
All wing, they are,
their bodies spare,
impatient husks
consumed by flight,
by brilliance drawn
to swift nowhere.
They spin, then drop,
like tick from tock,
settling down
invisibly
upon this page,
a ghostly flock.
At last, they rest.
I take a breath,
exhaling them
from here to there,
from then to now,
defying death.
(16 March, 2007—Petulu, Bali—)
.
.
.
|