Saturday, March 7, 2009
The Meaning of Death
A murder of rows passed by my bed, I said, "Excuse me, could one of you please tell me the meaning of death?" One fell silent while the rest laughed louder. I grew tired trying to decipher the cackles and the quiet and I fell asleep, dreaming of myself falling through a world full of laughter, neither with me nor at me, but I awoke to the sound of the silent bird's wings and smiled, because I never hit the ground.
Labels:
death,
Stephen Strupp
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
i read this at 5 am with birds chirping outside of my window.
ReplyDeletei hope that places you...some how, with what i felt.
this made a lot of sense to me. i think it's really really great steve.
ReplyDelete