poet Eric Cockrell

Eric Cockrell

So Be It!

If for this moment
I was born.
If for this plaintive howl.
If for the space between
Sound and echo,
Between long night
And the break of dawn.

If for this purpose,
Be it great or small.
If for this name
None else can bear.
If for this turn, this tilt,
This fall.
If for the time of shedding.

If for this call, this haunt,
This storm...
If for the taste of blood,
On lips a' quiver.
If for this page,
Unwritten, unread.
If for the final break.

Then, so be it!

Topic(s) of this poem: destiny

Poem Submitted: Monday, July 11, 2016

Form: Free Verse

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