My final breath has gone,
Long before this new days sun rises,
Never to see this mornings glory,
In purples, reds and burning orange,
Never again to taste the frost on the clean crisp air,
No scent of autumn fires to light my senses,
That birds carefree song lost on my deadening ears,
The feel as the first snow flake lands on my pallid skin,
Lost in joyless emptiness,
Hours from now the glory of the evenings end lost on these vacant eyes, I am, at last,
Obsolete to my own requirements,
As my breathless lungs start to decay,
The mist of death veils my darkened eyes,
The history of my life now ebbs on forgetful minds,
My life’s experiences now Chinese whispers on winters winds, And I lie forgotten,
To be remembered in passing,
My journey done,
Baggage checked,
The beauty of each new dawn lost, As I lay still and cold,
And deaths grip finally grasps my scruff.

Padauk bowl. More at Bespoke Woods Facebook page.

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