Dregs of the Cup
Straining to swallow the remedy,
Thick like blood with the stinch
Of gall mingled with death
And the after taste of pleasure-
None running out the corners
Of his mouth- the Physician drank
The bitter cup, enduring the sting
And curdled abominations stirred
With grievous residue at the bottom
Of the cup, and became tannic acid
On the Tree for the sick in the world.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment