Entering Into Death (Sonnet)

The winds blow in, hard, a longing to be,
ambition to do. I draw in that which
belongs here and savor the mystery,
life, death, what is, what will be, they bewitch

me, hypnotize, light and darkness moments
float in the air, like sun after rain, rain
after sun. Death stands ahead, I lament,
but 'tween here and there drift pleasure and pain.

Ribbons of mauve and blue, late evening sky
and grayness settles over me, in me,
departing light and fleeting, robins fly
to rest their wings, to nest, in quiet, trees.

While life is bright, it only stands to joy.
Save sorrow for the grave which can destroy.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019