Death is a long dark door,
Life's forever shifting between the sweet
and bitter shore,
but death
is a long dark door.
A hyacinth stands tall and moody,
a daffodil bounces and sways--
the wind-whipped clouds lay low and looming,
the sun glares bravely
through the day.
What would I do for a life, my love
and fair garden--
what would I do for a life beyond
my own self-pardon?
Freed from who I think I am,
who I am not.
To give up the rough and tumble struggle--
trouble's only real trouble
when its sought.
But death is a long dark door.
A place I can't travel to anymore.
Life's a small and certain truth
I can no longer quite ignore.
The darkness is familiar, but,
does that matter, anymore?
I know life will always shift between
the sweet and the bitter shores.
When the door slams shut,
death is always a long dark door.
Copyright 2002 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
All Poetry/Prose/Idea/Rants are the Legal Property of this Writer,
Meloo/Melissa A Howells from her copyrighted site Tilt-a-World
This appeared in Street the Roots newspaper in the year 2003.
