The flowers all have scattered,
borrowed feelings shout aloud
Mock funeral of celebration,
grief false beneath their shrouds
The mourning congregation,
to the tavern marched in step
A ruse to the departed,
with each toast his memory wept
His friends then hugged his enemies,
his wife and girlfriend kissed
Through the glass a raven watches,
taking names without a miss
As ‘last call’ is shouted boldly,
and all glasses drained of lies
Two wings beat out a roll call,
—death’s quota flying high
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: September 10th, 2016 19:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Augustus
Offline)
Comments1
I take it many were not unhappy to see him go and the Raven took note. Enjoyed. Nice ant tight. Told a story. Had a rhythmical flow. Created lots of visual imagery. Teaches a lot.
Thanks Augustus. The Raven is taking note of their insincerity,
false grief and mourning.
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