Do You Ever Get That Being Dead Feeling?

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For those who read my stuff, you may have noticed an immediate error; ellipses. Where on earth is it?

It’s not on Earth, but it could be in it.

Yesterday, I had this odd little thought-hole that suggested that death could have been like that. Just an ordinary day (Tuesdays are historically my least favoured as that used to be dentist day when I was a child)…extracting myself from that little narrative diversion, I had been bumping into people who I had not seen for years. And the thought-hole opens up before me with the tantalising suggestion that maybe I was dead.

Death could possibly be a little like that; if we carry on thinking beyond the grave. Anyway, digression is my skill and art, but I shall move on.

Robert Frost:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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Not today, oh Grim One…   (…means I carry on)

4 thoughts on “Do You Ever Get That Being Dead Feeling?

  1. Mike2all, you’re an unwitting inspiration.
    Tuesdays Dread (Apologies to Cat Stevens)
    Did I pass a Grim Reaper, idly lounging, scythe on shoulder
    As I trudged begrudingly towards what awaits in the Upper Form,
    An uproariously warm welcome to make the blood run cold
    With nothing but a touch of Frost to keep a mortal warm.

    And we roll with the punches.

    Liked by 1 person

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