the reaper’s curse
how many farewells are enough
to bid those who had it rough
living through time’s toil...
they who now answer the call of the soil?
what metaphors can capture the tiger
that roared from within you devouring evil
that stood across your way even as you would wager
against everything uncivil...?
as these sands slowly sieve through our fingers
pouring over wood that holds stiffer wood
that once held a fire that lingers
in our memory, tributes fall short, pretty but crude