I believed in Death
unswervingly the moment
my son was born.
I had never before,
I suppose, had quite
so much to lose.
It was the immediate
raison d’être that
I’d forever sought.
Twenty years on
and I am again
admiring my sea view
from a worn
swaying tightrope,
quietly nonplussed
polishing reflections
and crocheting a new deal
from the hungry void
congratulating myself
on surviving yet another
casual departure.
