Sometimes stories
begin
somewhere in the
middle.There is no
B e g i n n i n g
there is only what is.So we wait for an ending
needing closure without the
commitment
or the
contextWe wait for the curtains to
f
a
l
l
one last timeThe audience applauds
drowning out the
last ragged breath leaving this
r o t t e n c h e s t

YOU ARE READING
D I V I N I T Y
PoetryThere is a wild fire in this chest of mine #1 in hymn (6-12-19)