by Kelley Egan
The snow is slowly melting
and I feel my soul drifting away.
My eyes are growing tired
and I realize I am not here to stay.
The trees are growing taller
as my body is growing older.
Soon my skin will crack
and my blood will turn colder.
The moon seems closer
as my days on Earth are numbered.
The rain falls so much harder
like my tears that roll like thunder.
When will
it be?
The last
breath I take?