And I beg of you, what is the shape of the journey
When death comes calling, pleading, greeting us
in the thin place between what’s real and what isn’t.
Is death round as a wispy dandelion, blowing
away in a gentle breeze, happy and carefree?
Or is it square, where everywhere you venture,
you find yourself in a corner
With no way back to here ~ where you once were?
Is it an eternal spiral and you are
forever spinning, re-living gossamer memories
of breathing, feeling, and being alive?
In the end, is it nothing
but an empty lonely table set for a party of one?
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Play it Again! with Real Toads
Author’s Note:This is Kerry’s last post at the Garden which will be closing, but remain as an archive and a place of inspiration. I chose to use Magaly’s prompt- 1 Poem…
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