Death-Calm Poem by Sara Dickson
Death-Calm
The death-calm took ahold of me
Swift, without cacophony
A sweet proposition
Whispered in my ear, and
Ever slightly, echoed here
Softly, gently, tugging me
Come nigh the edge, thus I see
An edge, and down, a chasm
But what a chasm! -deep and black
Its edge and unrelenting knife-edge
And the ever dreamt release of death
To me gave new mechanism, for but to
Calm my soul, my restless soul.
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4/19/2024 9:54:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
