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Click here--- a villanelle for Rybka's "friend of a friend" challenge ---
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax,
Our worries reflect the warm face's who'd hear
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.
Yet he who's injured seemed free of life's tax,
Unburdened by the weight of worry and tear,
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax.
At the hospital that night, we rubbed other's backs,
Fighting against the darkness that blossomed in fear
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.
A red light too soon blinked green in night's blacks,
Squealing tires spilling blood that brought us all here,
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax.
Lamentations echo that stop us in our tracks,
"Why are the ones taken first who're held so dear?"
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.
At last, the news falls and our quaking grows to cracks.
In life, he'd smile and wish us good cheer --
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax,
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 16 years agoThis poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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