By BoJenn
Those lost at the Texas Creeks
When time arises to shed this skin—
to move into the unknown of memory’s somewhere
And watch a friend dissolve from flesh dissolved frequency
Colorful vibrations replacing form,
presence unshaped; though still known.
Tomorrow won’t mirror, yesterday’s buzz.
Sisters age like stories they’ve known
written in soft flabby creases
around eyes that once laughed without end,
And, necks that held up defiant grace.
The body, once fluid and biologically sure,
now offers waters —
five times a night,
the path lit not by dreams but necessity,
footprints echoed before dawn.
I watch her shift—
from muscle and breath
into essence of silver slivers of lights.
And I wonder:
when will my own change begin?
The front door opened
seventy-two years ago
to let me in.
Now the back door
quivers in a breeze,
undecided,
lingering in the hush
between hello and hugged.
And a wave of farewell
When I sliver away
And an infant awaits
My first cries
My art
My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts 