The Vulnerable

The Vulnerable

 

You read through fiction, verse,

The massive output worsening

Our worries: aging

Sickness, death –

And hit upon some principles

That ease.

One: none leaves

Mother earth alive;

Two: who

Does not lose vigor’s bloom

Once aging’s room is entered?

None whose telescopic zoom

Does not retract,

Contact with healthy everything

A blurring fuzz?

None of us.

We are the vulnerable everyone.

Who can say, “Why me?

Cry, ‘Child…mine…”why, always why.

Can one blame?

Curse heaven’s name when

It, the flaming absolute,

The same-for-all

Is same-for-all,

The game for all to play

With rules to learn, the critical.

 

The Vulnerable 2.26.2008

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Birth, Death & In Between;

Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

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