the striker

The Striker.

When death stalks, near the houses, it makes
us into ghosts that fearsome hide in shadows
as not to be seen, lest it should cast a viscous
eye upon us…and how wrong we are.

It is the light we should seek; celebrate spring,
chase death down the vale, throw into the sea
where it can drown in is own un-deadly- ness;
so we can, for a moment, feel immortal.