Rounding the unexpected corner, onto a dead end, uncharted by cyber.

Traveling light, in my fast new car, I still couldn’t dodge that old kick in the head—mortality.

GETAWAY BY NANCY LIND 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 71

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Rounding the unexpected corner,

onto a dead end, uncharted by cyber,

an unweeded graveyard 

rips my suit of flesh to rags.

It almost stares back at me.

Next to a small heap of flagstones,

once a church, those old Dutch farmers

founded a final settlement.

The tombstones thundered names 

once written in the parish rolls –

Van Hooten

Van der Donk

Van der Velt

Van der Meer

Van de Waal

then the granite blanks, wiped clean

by centuries and raw winters.

Man, it was stark enough!

Traveling light, in my fast new car,

I still couldn’t dodge

that old kick in the head—mortality

as brief as the gaudy hummingbirds whizzing by,

as loud as parrots shrieking—MEMENTO MORI, kid, MEMENTO MORI.