dying Men Poem by David McLansky
dying Men
Dying men
Bell the season,
But give no pause
To Nature's treason;
We grow to height
And then decay,
We reproduce
Along the way;
Self-aware
Of other Selves,
We know despair
As love dispels;
When Earth returns,
Its journey run,
And Spring once more
Her magic sprung,
I will be
Dried skin and bones;
My wisdom summed
Upon a stone.
This is the power of your words, they move me to think beyond the poem. ! ! ! I love your writing David [3
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4/19/2024 10:51:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Dying men bell the season. When Earth return its journey runs. Wonderful and heart touching poem.