At dawn,
the dark hole
opens before me,
slowly,
as it would
in any grave
dug in stoney ground.
But there are
no pall bearers
to haul me.
(Only in my mind, if I decide),
and so with
all my hearts
might I fight
against final night,
that last step.
I pray, beg
for early morning
sun to rise.
For darkness,
even shade,
to be dispelled
and for
light
to hold dominion
over all,
(including me!)
once again.
Amen
Poems by Ken 