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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9/19/2024 4:53:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
