TODAY IS THE LAST DAY OF YOUR LIFE ’TIL NOW

I was the luckiest father in the world

until I turned unluckiest.

They shoot horses, don’t they?

In the mountains, the air is so

Thin you can scarcely say your

name. I dreamt I was a drum.

In the dream, I dreamt I was a

school boy afraid of school. I dreamt

I was drowning. Far away, the

crush of snow refracted the still muted

light. As if punishment was not

punishment enough.

14 January 2009