Monday, March 7, 2011

Burying Our Dead


In the twilight an infant creature is peacefully observing it's new world.
Resting tranquilly after meeting a disorderly death with tears, most unbecoming.
It rests silently, fixed to the soothing sound of a breast broad with composed and harmonious breath.

Feeling much contented, the new creature stirs and graciously collects the remains
of the former self, and with devotion and ceremony it carefully places each bone into the grave,
playfully admiring it's own shadow and paying it's respects, pondering the prospect of it's new capabilities.

Rodin Shaw Cole © 2011

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