saturday, march 15th—on the eve of war

in the morning,
as I sat in silence,
a dead man came beside me,
his form cold and gray,
and I wondered if the angel of death
had come for my soul

weird spirits roamed the edge of my vision,
gasping sobs of exhaled air,
as the war in men’s minds
stirred the ghouls of decay

in the evening,
a rabbit threw its life at the wheels of my car
and was gone in a quick bump of tire;
and a young boy named Jeffrey
died a pointless death,
naked and alone,
in the cold morning air