in a time of endings

the fear you cradle as close

as a newborn adheres despite

your averse demeanor.

imagining an ending,

this fear can only be accepted.

it's how you feel when harrowing thoughts

sulk unfiltered on your head

as you wait for sleeps

steady train to arrive.

an ending on its own

is,

so simple, so mild.

but to you

it is seasoned and sauced,

simmered in a noisome rue

begging to be consumed

by the

unaware indulger.

the taste lingers, awakened

each time your eager tongue

slides over a glazed gum

or tooth.

awakened each time you

revisit the parcel of your mind

where this particular ending

resides.

an ending on its own

is,

so simple, so mild.

you are here and then,

you are not.

you are with and then,

you are without.

the fear you cradle

is not welcome,

is not wanted.

the fear you cradle

does not ask does not ask to be cradled,

does not ask permission to throw itself

upon you.

in a time of endings,

the fear you cradle

is the same fear we have all cradled.

soon,

you will find yourself

arriving at the denouement of some seemingly unsurpassable ending.

and then, without warning or notice,

you will notice its weight has

vanished.