paper steppe
Time slips me by again and again
And yet I remember your face
I’ve seen you on the other bank
The brink of my destruction
Your fingers held in front of me, all ten
Open hands collecting your fare
Porcelain gloves flex their cracks
Of those who grabbed them in vain
Sitting in the minds of men
Who tried to taunt you on the marble floor
You are not Death- though you are made so
Because you remember the debt I paid
Coins kiss the lips of your passengers
Some I recognize from my past
They have only just met you
And will never see you again
And as the solar barge drifts by
You grasp the obol tighter
For you drag the moon down with you
To feel the warmth of dreams
Your paddle dips into the Styx
And you take one last look at the bank
I give you a wave- I cannot come yet
And as I leave I will not look back.
vivid bronze
