Feb 2006

Dying paragon of beauty
Whose color quickly fades to brown:
You danced at the height of your youth
To the soft music of the wind
Until a crescendo of air
Clenched down on your delicate throat
And with a fortissimo breath,
Swiftly cut off your swaying dance, 
Ending life with a single note;
But would you rather die like this,
In the bloom and beauty of youth,
At the climax of melody,
Or in older fragility,
When the sweet melody of life
Softens into oblivion?