Stark Hunter Poet Epitaph

Florence Mclane 1889 - 1902

Florence McLane

1889 – 1902


Psst… over here!
My toppled tombstone is the one 
With the somber seraph carrying a cross.
My grave is the one that no one can see or find.
My hidden final resting place is in the digesting shade
By the willowy walnut tree.
Can you find me?
Olly olly oxen free!
Do you see me?
Will you now hear me?
I breathed my days on Pasadena Street
Inside the little white house with the horseshoe over the door.
I slept my nights under the stars
With dreams and visions and intense remembrances.
My cross to bear bore no semblance
To the old bloody rugged one
Borne by my Lord and Savior to Golgotha.
To my friends and foes,
Dead now for a multitude of minutes.
I sought no pain or revenge.
But your closed eyes never noticed
My own bloody cumbersome cross.
Never truly noticed the tiny ray of pure light
Deep, deep inside my singed soul.
Enveloped and masticated alive
By the deadening darkness of the faithless.
My final words to you all:
Olly olly oxen Free!

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Lady Ristretto August 5, 2015 at 7:30 AM My favorite so far. This one has such a vivid voice and is very performable. I especially admire all of the poems you've written for the women. They have such a deep melancholy. You've captured, I think, a very intense longing.