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Saturday, March 19, 2016

I Died Today

Contributor: Ken Allan Dronsfield

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I think I died today.
Staring at the bare walls;
a knife, a fork, a bottle and
candle lay before me.
The raucous sounds of blaring horns,
screeching brakes and people shouting;
all rise up from the sweltering streets
below, through my open window.
The smells and hell of the city
permeate the entire room and
the fan in the corner quit a day ago;
but, I think I died today.
I laid on the old mattress,
sweat running down my face.
I dozed off and awoke
in a field of green grass,
with white crosses all about.
I stood and watched friends of old
toss roses of red into the dark hole,
landing upon a casket. I think I'm there,
tucked inside wearing my dark gray suit,
white shirt and hated tie...Oh yes,
I think I died today, I just don't know why.


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Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published poet/author/digital artist from Oklahoma. He enjoys writing, walks and his cats, Merlin and Willa.

5 comments:

  1. Beverly Sutherland SwitzerMarch 19, 2016 at 9:10 AM

    Very profound write. Each of us face our own mortality. Very visionary ink.

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    Replies
    1. Many thanks for your wonderful comments....they are truly appreciated!

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  2. I like this one very much; even more so than the first time I saw it. It is an inevitable slide show about to happen; the way you write it is indeed what is in many minds, only you captured it so very poetically. Creativity in every chapter of life.

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    Replies
    1. Much appreciated! Thank you for taking the time to leave this wonderful comment.

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  3. Ken,
    A very moving poem. I have enjoyed seeing your poetry on Whispers the short-lived journal, Poebita Poetry Magazine and one of Michael Lee Johnson's websites (I forget which). I look forward to publishing you in print.
    Your friend,
    David Fox

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