by Marlene Brubacher
I stared at Death, and he stared back.
I felt his breath upon my cheek.
And for his singular command
I listened, but he did not speak.
Eternity behind him rode
On comfortably coloured mare,
Industrious to calculate
Surrendered mortals she could bear.
I gazed—they gazed; and took the reins
And drove away in dignity.
But Death and I have greeted once;
I covet his return for me,
For though we held no dialogue
I nearly touched Eternity.
Marlene Brubacher lives in the bush of northwestern ON; she loves Jesus, singing, Eastern Europe, white chocolate, the richness of friends, and the magic of words.
Videography by James Weaver
One thought on “Marlene Brubacher: Almost”
I wonder when that was.
And you do mean “reins”, not “reigns”?