Your poem community!

Before

04/28/2026 14:58h
Before clock hands showed the time time ceased, and looking glasses were veiled as if they still held familiar faces, in those last moments when breath shallowed like a wellspring running dry, God-words quickened, only then the dying left death-beds borne on the arms of the gathered, lowered to the floor so they might press close, as though a door through which to listen and know the earth's old secrets before it opened, and they entered.