0.00
(0 votes)
You must login to vote
|
|
|
They found you a spot
Beneath
Pensive perennials
The coffin will carry us
There
When the time comes
Behind houses and
The taller trees, wet
With the warm rheum of daybreak,
Dripping.
There are no apologies
Where you have gone
The dead make more of their mouths
Than that
I have believed this
Since I was a child,
Still do despite my
Best
Efforts.
Later there will be toasting,
But it won’t ring true
Because
Most of the people who knew you
Have been dead ten years
Already
It will be like wishing a stranger luck
Not insincere,
Just meaningless.
Can’t say I ever liked you
But sometimes you were kind
And I always hoped you’d be happier
That much
At least
Is true.
------
The human race, the only race I know where everybody loses.
|
Headlands
