(Im)mortal

Immortality: built to last, like the Roman Coliseum.
A first century monument to humanity’s achievements,
to Nero, to the strength of linen clad Romans,
with travertine arches that withstood fires and earthquakes.

Mortality: bones and blood, like Nero himself.
and those who followed him until there were none.
Our breaths follow the rhythm of our internal clocks,
ticking down the hours until we fall into cold dust.

Immortality: tastes like sermon promises of Heaven;
shines like morning light through cathedral stained-glass,
mesmerizing and tantalizing, hope that our breaths
will stick to the world like black ink on scritta paper.

Mortality: tastes like dried leaves and scattered roadkill;
shines like morning light through hospital windows,
reminding and tormenting, months and months of hospice.
Our bones are not travertine, our blood is not Holy water.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s