an oval window
on an oak door
with brass, not
gold fittings,
allows me to
participate in the
taciturn stillness
of life's illusions,
simplified through
death symbolically;
as the oak door opens,
the smell of newness
overwhelms, yet
there is nothing
to touch or see,
and with a baffled
expression, step
through the opening,
creating myself anew,
and the life
I once had is
obliterated instantly
and those I knew,
know I am dead.
24jul13
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