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The Dash

Updated on February 21, 2017

There is a dash
etched upon a tombstone
stuck between
a life once lived
and a life lost.
Nobody can win.
Our lungs will dry out;
our hearts discontinue.
A foreclosure sign
strung from our ears.
Our life will be engraved
on tombstones.
A life once lived,
eaten alive by roots;
worms will wiggle through
broken finger bones.
Eternity cannot be held
in the palms of our hands.


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      Nearer eternity 9 months ago

      As one approaches that dash, a query arises: won? or lost? I see your poem as a masterful remark upon the human condition--and the edge between life and eternity.