Old Friend
I visualize our end thus:
crowded, yet not...
dusk as if, though dawn;
dizzy like a balloon
and simultaneously
short of breath...
I turn to
graze the floor
with my eyes
one last time
detaching myself
...sorrowfully...
from all senses
as my shadow
...that once most
constant solace!
rises against me
no longer
to follow
as a servant
might...
it reaches out
charred fists
to take its
master down
as we meet
this once
vis a vis
Angel of Death I did not recognize thee.