Thursday, 29 July 2010
| Mortality |
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By Saskia Maddock When I think of my not being here anymore
It takes my breath away
To rub up against the thought
That one day I will never open my eyes again
Holds such fear for me
That I can only look at it sideways
I consider just for the briefest of moments
That sixty years from now
My son will pause on the date of my birth
And think with sadness and love
Of the quiet emptiness in his life
That used to be me
I will be a hole in his heart...
Today I heard someone say
That he knows the hour of his death
I don’t know mine
But I want to live as though I do...
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