POEM: Wandering Off to Die

And when the darkness looms
we wander on our way
deep into the forest
and from the path we stray.

A lonely way to go?
I’m not sure I agree.
No lonelier than a bed
far from the nearest tree.

Not blocked from the agents
of Death or of Decay —
perhaps, we feel the Web
more than the fear of prey

as we stagger that last mile.

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