The Dying Process Poem by james watkin

The Dying Process



Slipping, as pain-free
A grassed buzz, under
Woke sense, living consciousness.
Waspishly grating!

That smooth, subtley.
That unnoticeable.
One, a dream-flight. The other
More liberating.

Friday, June 9, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: dying
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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