I tell myself one life
must yield to another:
fly to spider,
spider to bird,
bird to birdshot.
I tell myself one life
must, in the full course
of a day relinquish itself
to another savage dawn,
fall as each unbidden
yesterday fell, bleak
and ungrieved, twisted
on a rack of tomorrows
no more certain than a silk
spooled about a winch.
Image: Matt Seymour on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
“..twisted on a rack of tomorrows…” Brilliant
The whole thing rocks, but that rack line …BLAMMO!
Thank you, Ron. I appreciate it.
D
I agree with Ron. That last stanza rocks.
Thank you so much, Annette.