Life and Death

A man had died.
I was his son and had just been told.
Walking along the road to my home
In the dark evening I passed an empty house.
On my left as I walked
Was the undertaker’s
In the empty street
A cold wind blew fallen leaves.
Further along the way
A house was brightly lit from within,
And I could see people inside.
A girl child rode by on a bicycle.
Nearer home I met my young son
And carried him in my arms,
Wrapped in my coat against the wind.
Always and everywhere,
Everything is living and dying.

Tony Crisp

Copyright ©2007 Tony Crisp

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