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Archive for January 29th, 2008

Dying

how will I know
when my time is up

will there be a signal,
a nod, a gesture

that I’ve lingered a
moment too long

and what will I say
will I argue
will I plead

Look…
too many pages
in my notebook
are still blank

Wait…
perhaps you
have me confused
with someone else

someone shorter
someone older
someone more content

to leave, than I.
perhaps I will bargain
the world needs something

anything that will stand
on its own and
not be flung into the earth
or reduced to smoldering ash.

~elizabeth adams

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The Dance

The strong young bulls
don’t come to the ring
             to die on Sunday.
They come to show a man their energy
                                              their pride.
The dancing that they’ve practiced all their lives
to bring to the arena one August afternoon.

Their partners are not killers then.
They’re dancers too.
        Their red capes flashing.
Three-cornered hats that scoop applause
                           when the dancing’s done.

Pity not the strong young bull.
                 He takes his chance.
       As does the matador.
The price for coming to the dance.

Young men pretty in the sun
against the handsome bulls.
                                    Killers?                  No.
Only dancers in the dance.
To see the dancing is to know.

I don’t believe that really
           I’m of the Taurus sign
and every dead bull in the ring is my relation.

~Rod McKuen
     Listen to the Warm

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