But those who burn with vig’rous youth
Pluck fruits before the light.–William Blake
Let’s raise a glass to the shadow on the wall–
I turned to look and he wasn’t there at all,
Just a child screaming from the crib
And skeletal mother: bony Adam’s rib.
He’s out there somewhere, mingling with the dark,
An alpha male, a predator, a shark–
His razor teeth form quite the brilliant smile;
He swims everywhere but down the church’s aisle.