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
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