Fleets of Death

Death pervades my waking sleep,
Icy wrathful breath of mildew and moss,
Corrupting the images of light and love,
Memories fleeting dreams,
Rustles in the predawn curtains,
Faint presence of something there,
Faces in bare branches of late autumn,
A turn, a wince, a flinch of fear,
The faces disappear,
Smoke of cedar, oak, apple here but gone,
Death takes my companions,
One by one,
From where out those shadows,
Will He for me, come?

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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