He is stuck
Behind the wall
Between the fire place
And the brick facade
There is nothing to be done
A fatal falling
From the top of the roof
Down through the opening
Hell’s deadly crevice
No escape
Hear him clawing
Desperate and alone
There is no savior
No light to break the darkness
Only the waiting
Remains
Hours then minutes and seconds of breath
Wings slap in impotence
Weakly raging
Life’s brutal passing
Death’s quiet embrace.
(Previously published in Lynx Eye, Spring ’99, Vol. VI, No.2; Fusion Ink, Issue 2, September 2000; Poet’s Porch, Aug.2001)
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