writhe in hot pain--
red blood flows from harsh wounds--
sharp screams knife spring air--two bodies
smashing
new green
tulips in dark, rich garden dirt.
The red-eyed ambulance
pulsing like their
death wounds--
shrieking--
speds away, but already the
breath of life has faded--
little--nothing--
then death.
Oh, I
learned late one spring day that life, like
a fragile candle can
be snuffed out in
moments.
John Daleiden
12-02-04
Oblique: A Poetry Journal Copyright © 2005 John Daleiden You Are Visitor Number
