Life recoils from death
From the first sign of decay
Repelled by the halting breath,
The shuffling gait, the stumbling way,
The tremulous fingers closing a door
The shaking limbs that would spill
The contents of a cup upon the floor
Life turns to life, feeding on the new
Devouring young blood and flesh
Drawn to glinting eyes and smiles
To all that is fresh
And marry with youth as with a wife
Merging over and over with budding life
Till life goes where it is not
And cannot recoil from what it forgot

The bird peeks
Through the bush
Quivering, watchful
In its leafy cocoon

The bird peers
Into your window
As if it is waiting
As if it knows