Creations

Merryweather’s Gift

a touched and altered future
in a time of no defense
to set an expiration 
on tomorrows yet unsensed 

She laid a marker on my final day 
and sent me down a path
where a spindled death lay waiting
for my destined steps to pass

But another mark came later still
to smooth those sharpened teeth
with softened fate and loving cure
to sleep that mortal reach

And with that gift of borrowed time
the boatman's fare was stayed
that I might sleep through threatened death 
til life, by love, is saved