Poetry should not shy away from such preoccupations, indeed, there can hardly be a better medium through which to engage with subjects like love and death.
Living in Northern Ireland, during the IRA's terrorist campaign to gain control of the province, tended to focus the mind sharply on how swiftly one’s life could be changed in an instant. Sadly, for a number of my contemporaries, it was.
This poem appeared in Issue 35 of Pennine Ink, a long-established and consistently excellent magazine published annually in the north of England. Issue 36 has just been published. More details at http://pennineink.weebly.com
An ambulance howls like a hurt cat;
parts traffic as Moses did the waves.
Worms burrow in awaiting graves.
A police car buzzes like a gnat.
Stuck in a jam of steaming cars,
I contemplate how life transforms
in moments. How they wait, those worms,
so patiently, for us, for ours.