Arisen. Poem by Ian Kellett
Arisen.
On the last day
Of the year,
Death, dressed
Up to the nines
For the night
And in arrears,
Crept quick
Behind my
Father,
Stole his
Soul away
Without a word,
And fled
Like any
Merrymaker
Late.
So call death
To a pause,
For I do not fear him,
Though he shall me.
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5/12/2024 4:18:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
