by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I’ll tell you
what it’s like.

It’s like a train
and rolling
over you.

You can’t get
out of the way
stop the train
it’s too late.

All you can do
is take it–
let it run over you,
let the train
finish its job.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry

17 responses to “Death

  1. The most significant element in any event is one’s attitude to it.

  2. eremophila

    Reblogged this on Eremophila's Musings and commented:
    Sometimes you see the lights of the train in the distance……

  3. Caddo Veil

    So heartbreaking, reality.

  4. Ah …. yes. You put it well, Ethel. Horribly well.

  5. I felt this in my heart and soul – so true, so heartbreaking….

  6. Anna Mark

    Sometimes, sickness can be like this, too. It doesn’t necessarily end in death, but it feels, nevertheless, like a train that just has to come and do its horrible black job.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s