“Ashes to …” by Alan Fox

Alan Fox


Now into limbo depth of time
Is fled that soul which had a man
And silent, empty, earth pressed bone
Remains, to learn decay alone.

Where to, where from, where hence, where gone
None other knows, or cares, or can,
A grab bag chance, a sack of skin,
To mask our come, and going in.

from Rattle #49, Fall 2015


Alan Fox: “When I was twelve I knew I was supposed to be a writer, and I have been, specializing in business letters. During the past three years I have published three self-help books. At the moment, at age 75 and counting, I’m finishing a short novel, The Man Who Disappeared. Maybe that was me at age twelve.” (website)

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