we push through
the narrow
birth canal,
enveloped
in a red
and bloody sac-
alone
we pull our roots
up bit by bit
and to Death's door,
no man
can turn his back.
Birth
and Death,
they circle wide
around us,
connect us all
each to the other,
and though we share
the same encircled fate,
our entrance and our exit
make it known
that on the threshold
of each great gate--
it seems we stand alone.
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