Iliam Burns

 I was reading about the Stoics

who see the events of their life

clearly without judging them

as if they have seen thru their

slowing of time, these things coming at them

were friends coming towards you,

small tornadoes laid out like chess pieces

laid out on a table, where perhaps

your friends had names like Death.

Are we then the party of ourselves

to dance with Death? The Stoic

on his porch, shall dance then, cannot

control and will not judge but he is

the host and guest.

We are at birth gathering darkness from the womb

all the night stuffed into ourselves, what was around and enveloping;

In the physics of the world then where stars not being where we think

are swallowed by time, are sucked into the dark by a singularity

like our own death, taking all the light we had been busy gathering.