Voyeurs of Death
Watchers of decay
Gleefully do they imprint
Sweat-dewed palms
Upon their pier glass
Peering, avid with
Each incision holds its breath
In anticipation of
The culminating event
Panting with
Exertionless effort
Red rimmed eyes
Follow every move
Fearful to blink
And lose that brief pinnacle
Of time and event
The essence of life
Lost in the glaze of death
Frosts the air in the brief of time
And erased is gone
As the voyeurs of death
Live on
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
October in Vermont 2007
1 comment:
I like it. Very emotional. Title fits the poem. OK, I've been reviewing poems and essay on writing.com. So if this sounds like a professional or, at least, close to a professional review that is why.
Post a Comment