Squinting at death


I am squinting at death
but death pixillates
into cubes
of bright.

I am looking for death
but death hides
his white eyes and bitten nails
behind my shopping list.

I am listening for death
but death’s voice is muffled
by a toddler trying
to say her cousin’s name.

pic & poem by rachel mcalpine cc-by-2.0

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