…I shall turn, as is said, 66 years old…Pshaw!…never thought I would live this long…I wrote this right after my dear aunt, my godmother, passed from an horrendous bout with cancer.
I am the dying:
Your closest friend
Conscious of your tears
Moistening this vanquished flesh.
Death’s perpetual parade courses
Victorious over Life ephemeral.
Fourth of July
Copyright 1977 http://www.anotherthousandwords.wordpress.com
Nota bene: This poem has been published.
Oh…how little I knew…back then…of life…and death.