Death
is a blackbird perched
on a gray headstone,
comes swiftly like
a snowy white avalanche
or a tsunami wave
crashing to the shore
Death
is faceless
a sallow, shrunken ghost
in the shadows
deafening
like a mystery phone call’s
dead heavy silence
Death
is cold, lifeless
frigid as a hailstorm
on a tundra
icicle sinews
grab and embrace
never to let go
