Stark Hunter Poet Epitaph

Notes About The Poem

This is poem number 1 from my new poetry anthology, Voices From Mt. Olive Cemetery, a work in progress, and a sequel to Voices From Clark Cemetery. As with the pieces in this latter title, the poems from this new work will be in extended epitaph form. SH

Leander Skumfeldt 1864-1916

Leander Skumfeldt

1864-1916

Truly my friends

Dying was my greatest fear, while alive.

My most dreaded

Most detested of future experiences.

Dying, finally, was my greatest achievement

My greatest joy!

My highest calling!

The summit of my scant human existence!

Old Whittier town,

I have missed you indeed,

Have missed the bumpy rides by wagon and horse

To Los Coyotes,

Have missed the starry nights of suave embraces

In Sycamore Canyon.

With eyes wide open

I saw the irony of my life,

There, on a long table at Pio Pico.

There, amidst the old pottery and the sombreros

A single pressed morning glory

From the Spanish Bible of The Don,

A single fragile fading flower,

A metaphor for a sad but ecstatic soul,

My somber sullen soaring soul!

Be it known: I lived my life quietly

In the fear of God, and

I died my death screaming curses to his face!

But, truly my friends, truly

I found brazen beauty

Found unimagined enticings 

In the final gasping exhalation 

Of my last heartbeat.

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Holly Bohto September 16, 2016 at 7:12 PM OMG. This writing is beautiful. We escape to another place and time. Not that long ago. We are told. In the history lessons. Branded in our souls. Way to go. You captured my attention. And that's not easy. I'm a B and picky when it comes to writing. Stark Hunter September 16, 2016 at 7:35 PM Poets are engineers of the soul. And there is no higher calling indeed. Thank you for your kindness.