Death's Bouquet

Death’s Bouquet by Odin Roark Graves give much, Willing wafted memories ride The raven’s wind. Into other air Where spirits claim dorsal view Floating beside trumpets jazzed, While barefoot chil’en Walkin’ the early talk Stomp blues drifting skyward Clinging to cawing beaks Echoing wisdom’s chorus . Voices wale discordant grief Beside caisson rolling through new dust Atop cobbled history waiting A preacher’s new launchpad. Bellowing spirit made to wait As chilling cloud churns music’s air Into jasmine colored layering For a child’s sketchpad of crayon Skipping across hopscotch chalk All Hitchin’ up-drafts Atop silky black feathers Passing over death’s bouquet The fragrant moment moving on