the power of night
the black and white
lithe and still
darkness falls
bringing the final
moment
nowhere to go
from here
but to the end
fast and painless
eyes open
but the light gone
out
those years
gathered up
then scattered
by the wind
a billion specks
of light and sound
swallowed
by darkness
then nothing
not even
the black
(D. James)
like bits of paper
blown by the wind
which ones will I catch
in the net of my mind
hold onto for dear life
which ones will I let fly
laughing at what nonsense
I can come up with
what if they were all
just passing
like a small spark
or bolt of lightning
electric and fleeting
shinning a momentary light
then gone
instead of being turned
into the truth
(D. James)
disposable poetry 