Rest In Peace
I think all poets
know the refrain:
“May he rest in peace...”
The blessed phrase,
Known to every card
writer; to every jingle
reciter – even Clay, the
Fighter, quite The Poet,
feared no man's blow when
impulsed to show it.
And more serious poets,
the bulk of our many, ponder
through night after restless
night, the heartfelt subjects of
world peace and world blight;
tossing and turning, minds
flexing and burning...
upon one dear
poet's funeral – the last dirt-pile
shoveled – ground neatly patted,
nearly leveled; following the priest's
eloquent benediction of Word,
a poet's wife's mutter was clearly heard:
her eyes quite red, darkened as if applied
circles of black lithium grease “Now, perhaps,
finally!~I can Rest In Peace....”
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