Monday, December 30, 2013

David Bortin
If I saw Death in hot pursuit and gaining ground,
of course I’d try to find some desperate Fixx,
like planting obstacles to trip the horse he rides—
a running track, or stationary bike.
But lo! Death never moves an inch.
His gaze a tractor beam,
it’s I approaching him, instead,
and cannot swerve aside.
So tactics change:
slow down
and look around.

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