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Epitaphs

Epitaph for a Palestinian Child by Michael R. Burch I lived as best I could, and then I died. Be careful where you step: the grave is wide. Autumn Conundrum by Michael R. Burch It's not that every leaf must finally fall, it's just that we can never catch them all. Laughter’s Cry by Michael R. Burch Because life is a mystery, we laugh and do not know the half. Because death is a mystery, we cry when one is gone, our numbering thrown awry. My Epitaph by Michael R. Burch Do not weep for me, when I am gone. I lived, and ate my fill, and gorged on life. You will not find beneath this glossy stone the man who sowed and reaped and gathered days like flowers, undismayed they would not keep. Go lightly then, and leave me to my sleep. Housman was right ... by Michael R. Burch It's true that life’s not much to lose, so why not hang out on a cloud? It’s just the bon voyage is hard and the objections loud. Long Division by Michael R. Burch All things become one Through death’s long division And perfect precision. Styx by Michael R. Burch Black waters, deep and dark and still . . . all men have passed this way, or will. The Leveler by Michael R. Burch The nature of Nature is bitter survival from Winter’s bleak fury till Spring’s brief revival. The weak implore Fate; bold men ravish, dishevel her . . . till both are cut down by mere ticks of the Leveler. Here and Hereafter by Michael R. Burch Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter ... wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter. Sunset by Michael R. Burch This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Between the prophesies of morning and twilight’s revelations of wonder, the sky is ripped asunder. The moon lurks in the clouds, waiting, as if to plunder the dusk of its lilac iridescence, and in the bright-tentacled sunset we imagine a presence full of the fury of lost innocence. What we find within strange whorls of drifting flame, brief patterns mauling winds deform and maim, we recognize at once, but cannot name. Here he lies in state tonight: great is his Monument! Yet Ares cares not, neither does War relent. -Michael R. Burch, after Anacreon Blame not the gale, or the inhospitable sea-gulf, or friends’ tardiness, mariner! Just man’s foolhardiness. -Michael R. Burch, after Leonidas of Tarentum Mariner, do not ask whose tomb this may be, but go with good fortune: I wish you a kinder sea. -Michael R. Burch, after Plato Does my soul abide in heaven, or hell? Only the sea gulls in their high, lonely circuits may tell. -Michael R. Burch, after Glaucus Passerby, tell the Spartans we lie here, dead at their word, obedient to their command. Have they heard? Do they understand? -Michael R. Burch, after Simonides This dream of nothingness we so fear is salvation clear. -Michael R. Burch If one screams below what the hell is "Above"? -Michael R. Burch

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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