Donald Traxler's Poetry
Monday, December 17, 2018
Seventy-six Years
Seventy-six years
of a particular life
have shaped this body.
There were other bodies
before this,
and will be
still more.
Until?
What?
What is the grand
destination
at which we
are aiming?
We knew, once,
but have
forgotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
No comments:
Post a Comment