It is a blues rendition
of an anthem that was
manufactured long ago.
I am in no condition
to make a sound decision
about gestures I might
make to you before you go.
Now I
see life
is a
landscape
covered
with corners.
Now I
see death
is my
corpse surrounded
by mourners.
It's not fusion. It's not fission.
It's by my own volition
that I sit and watch
the rain turn into snow.
hans ostrom 2015
