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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2102533-360-Degrees
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2102533
A poem about life and death, and living in the moment.









THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DEGREES


When the metaphorical wheel of time turns 360 degrees

so does the banquet of death linger

resonating like a tuning fork held captive to unbidden thoughts.



Like stringy bark, our soft inviting flesh

ebbs and flows into a carbonised cycle of underground mesh.


\

When the metaphorical wheel of time turns 360 degrees

it chastises our eventual demise, a biographical excerpt,

an epilogue to our tenure, a passing fad to those who thought they knew us.



There's nothing left but the now

to take abreast of every wavering moment that comes our way

before the metaphorical wheel of time turns 360 degrees


and we grind to a shuddering halt.




? Lennard Mechlowski






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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2102533-360-Degrees