Not welcoming death
but befriending its shadow
whose blanket I wear
in this carrying wind
The brother to life
who spawned all existence
his eyes are my wings
—flying into the night
(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2022 10:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: Lauraš»
Offline)
Comments1
Kurt.
ā¢ āGoing Homeā is
hitting home.
Certainly not welcoming death at this time, but I do like these scripted words,
ābut befriending its shadow
whose blanket I wear
in this carrying windā
I can almost feel the warmth of that āblanketā.
Thank you for having masterfully scripted a poem thatās so relatable. Something that only a master of the art can do.
Lauraš»
Thanks, you and I know better than most.
š¤
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