Tired of Normal

Often I tire

  of too bright

a Sun

       A constant loudness

        she sings

 Soprano

to me

  weary concert ending.

I tire of pangs of others

      drum beat problems

beats same

      problems

        same

   beats.

I tire often but

  not of you

      Serendipitous breath

    in and out blindly

   lovely

breathing

         living I do not

tire of

Living of

    you.

Meeting Death

It’s weird to think that I met Death

Not for myself, always in passing.

He is quiet and humble

And collects final breaths

Of people who he’s ready for

It doesn’t matter if they’re ready

For him.

When it’s my turn to die

I look forward to the encounter

Not the end of my life

But the reunion with the last being

Besides me

To hold my mother’s hand