by Don Blanding
I've tried for many an hour and minute
To think of this world without me in it.
I can't imagine a new-born day
Without me here... somehow... some way.
I can not think of autumn's flare
Without me here ... alive ... aware.
I can't imagine a dawn in spring
Without my heart awakening.
These treasured days will come and go
At swifter pace... but this I know...
I have no fear... I have no dread
Of that marked day that lies ahead.
My flesh will turn to ash and clay
But I'll be here... Somehow... some way.
Last updated November 17, 2022