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Postcard From Death
March 17, 2015
the wind howls in their ears and they fall to their knees
beckoning
praying and wishing
for me
they lay on their bed, not healthy, not strong
beckoning
begging and waiting
for me
the baby lays on his bed, a new baby boy
but he already knows how to speak
how to plead
for me
he has a gun in hand and sees the enemy advance
daring to ask
is it his time?
yes, you’re mine
all ask for me
none can escape my breath
with time, they will come to me.
i’ll be waiting here, death
© Xiao H., Naperville, IL
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