Stuart Miers

Rookie (Swansea)

Until We Freeze.


In the reflection of vanitas,
You look not at your mortality.
Such is the nonchalance of youth.
You deny death a hundred times a day,
Till the soft velvet of night begs you to wonder.
As you look upon the graven image of the moon,
And even the stars, like glittering lanterns in the sky,
As the universe gets colder and colder, even these must end.

Submitted: Monday, June 16, 2014
Edited: Monday, June 16, 2014

Topic of this poem: Art


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