IX of Wands

She said I wouldn’t die today,
it wasn’t written in the stars.
it wasn’t written in my hand.
And maybe she was right. Maybe.

So here is where I make my stand,
one last stand, let come what may:
and then I’ll sleep for ever –
or sleep tonight and die another day.

XIII Death

For those who know, and knowing –
not deducing, not surmising,
but knowing – like I know where I grew up,
know the name and face and feel of my first love –
and knowing, know that any attempt to show
this was not so is laughable, preposterous, absurd –
for us, Death is merely the end of this,
the beginning of that,
and a funeral a rite of passage.

Beyond the Styx, beyond the Land of the Dead,
between the two white watch towers,
the sun is rising.