Quadrille: Cracks Among the Fireweed — a Poem


No thanatologist, I — nor one cheered
by Sesquipedalians; although certainly warmed
on the breezy excretions of flawed knowledge.

I’ve worked in death; failed “the face of Death” to see.

Emptiness is only empty to those zealous to disbelieve.

Cheers echo from an assumed abyss.

* * *

De is hosting Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub, and she bids us “cheer!”  (Actually, she wants us to use “cheer,” but I thought it sounded better the other way.  …maybe not.)

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12 thoughts on “Quadrille: Cracks Among the Fireweed — a Poem

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