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funeral poem

sehen Sie, von dieser Fälschung von ihm
die langen resounding Marmorflure
vor tausend leisen Jahren
das kleine mitfühlende, getragen, Lachengesichter
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
eine Feder des Stahls
ich sterbe
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
lieben Sie mich schließlich oder, wenn Sie nicht werden
Sie sind mein Begleiter
süß und stark
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe

 



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