Guest Poem: "Dead" by Christian F. of New York

Dead?......I just took my first breath.

To arch the step,

but crawl to the door.

A lift, a pull, a slip, a fall

perhaps to matter just not at all.

My beauty reflects in the sky that I view.

not down in the ice nor fly with the dew

I wander and choose

and sometimes I cry

The truth of the matter

too vain to die.

by Christian Fletcher, New York