It's not an easy thing, remembering your own death. Feeling the cold steel pressed against your stomach and then the warm gush of your blood (so much blood) as it rushes away, taking your life with it. It never hurt, though. That was the strange thing. Despite that razor edge ripping through my gut it never hurt. I guess it was the adrenaline.
No, dying never hurt. But the rebirth? That hurt more than anything imaginable. The first breath that tears through your lungs (like drowning in air) and the factory oil and ozone smell that follows, bringing bile to your throat as you realize you can't stop breathing, you have to keep going despite th
When autumn winds blow chill around
the outside of my home
and once-green leaves unfold
in the glorious colors of
the final act
I sit quietly and marvel at the
passage of time.
My children once crawling around my feet
and their children grown.
And their children now scramble through days
marked not with time,
but endless things to learn
I see it all happen with eyes
that have known pain
but never defeat.
Even as I quietly sit out these last days
of autumn, knowing
winter is not far behind,
I know, too, that there will be