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....”