The Knot

A long rope, life,
both ends twisting
like a noose while
we grope, desperate
to unwind it.

It has been said, death
is a knot tied by our own
hands but it's more like
a quick jolt upwards
into sudden darkness.


matt at shadow of iris said...


Melinda said...

To comment on every poem would be redundant. I can't find the words to express how your poetry moves me...so I guess that's it, still reading, and it does move me.

Rachel Phillips said...

Melinda and Matt, thank you so much for your comments. Nice to hear from you and Happy Holidays!!!

Gerry Boyd said...

Or downwards I suppose.