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The Circle by Colin McClung April 25, 2007 Death is a creation A reversal of sorts for the living Life reaches for us It extends its intentions to us Its firm impress on newly formed shoulders ensures that it is our turn We wriggle in the face of light Roll skin on skin Hard lines of character Veins of birth Our faces meet Stare into the eyes Fragile Hope is in a smile Possibility lies over the horizon on the other side of a cheek About the author: I grew up in the historic southern town of Williamsburg, Virginia. I moved to California and later graduated from Humboldt State University with a BA in Interdisciplinary Studies. I spent the years of his mid-life crisis tucked away in a cabin in the interior of Alaska. Then, floating adrift in life, I became a farmer on the north shore of Maui, Hawaii. I now reside and work on my daily domestication patterns with my wife Ania and our feline Co Co, living out a terribly cliched existence in Vermont. Pieces of my art work and other poems have been sprinkled around the globe in newspapers, greeting cards and web sites | | | |
First Person Archive Most recent: 2008 July June May April March February January 2007 December November October September August July June May April March February January 2006 December September | |
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