• An underlying sense of counting down –
    A rhythm deep: enteric thuds –
    Each another year to fret and frown
    About, wading in the claggy muds
    Of trial – to here, the blackened life.

    A glint of blade had caught a baggy eye,
    Sparking thoughts to jump the fence.
    Could I grasp the handle – was I shy
    Of what I had to do and hence remain
    Enshrined in overwhelming strife?

    The metal winked at me again
    To beg the possibility
    Of halting once and all the pain
    To relish an eternity

    Of rested shoulders,
    Peace of mind;
    So here, my wrist
    For ‘quick and kind.’