There on That Sad Height

There on That Sad Height

And in close, “The End”

Hurl thy body limb with limb

Whole and unaltered, this complete mass

An unflattering, floundering, swift jive and jab

On countless black

Beats of heart coordinate

A curtain drawn, our coming age;

Where the sounds dip and sights collapse

We fasten to fashion -- our most humanly fad;

A robe in funeral black 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked how you described the flow of time. Can't be stopped. Thank you Cole for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Dayran]

I have to say I've never heard anything more sad about change ... or what we might be giving up for it. Its hard to think that something so incredibly worthy of store would ever change. A poem about a sleeping princess.