The death of a stranger is never a worry
to others, not a pain;
as death of yourself will be easy for those
who dwell not within your name.
A sad glance at an occasional obituary
(maybe yours)
and then off to news and sport
at the clicking of a kettle.
Care for gentle breaths
always venturing on being last...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
More poetry from Welsh poet/writer Steven Francis. Described by one reviewer as "the poet with a magic microscope into human emotion", Steven is a fascinating walk into a dawn where the sun reveals everything...
