LIFE GOES ON

Life goes on. . .
even when
your brain feels drained
and your brawn does not feel strong. . .

whether at the onset of your game,
muddling through the middle,
or keening your swan song,

even at sundown of your final day
and after you are gone. . .

and it all has scrawled
a wondrous way,
wound through
wild winds
of sundry kinds
and Sundays mostly tame,

as you have risen
to occasions,
and ever moved along.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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