And I beg of you, what is theshape 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?
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg