Monday, March 06, 2006

Where is Death?

"Where is death?" you ask,
My warm and precious friend,
She travels down the backroads,
Bringing precious life to its final end.

She travels on the telephone lines,
And along the ground and sea,
Snipping life along her path,
There is nowhere we can flee.

The Mustang galloped onward,
Along the valley floor,
And when the pony tripped and stumbled,
Death removed one more.

He did not see her peering,
Through the darkened glass,
And when she reached to take him,
I wish he'd kicked her ass.

JR Bumgarner
March 6, 2006

1 comment:

Ellen said...

Yet again. So very very good.