Under Construction

Death As Sly As A Fox

“can we ever really
know death?"
a fox inquired to a rabbitbefore he took it in hismouth, teeth bared
ease like tenterhooks
through linen cloth
rabbit fur frosting over
like snow and ice
loss tinted with rose redspiderwebs covered on hyacinth
with the screech from night-sky
raven wings an answer
echoes between
the trees in the form
of hushed winds
and then


silence

Live, Live, Live

When I was born
the umbilical cord wrapped
around my neck so tightly,
I almost exploded
like a fallen blueberry
under a shoe

And now maybe after being
on the verge of death
at the beginning of life
I am forever stuck
with the craving
to die

Yet the stronger urge, 
to stay alive