The Bitter Kiss of Death
When I taste the bitter kiss of death
Whose touch will close these sightless eyes.
Will you rise?
Head bent with heavy sorrow?
Until the morrow,
And stand by my expectant grave
To shed your silver tears.
Or, will you pause.
And save your tears,
For more important loss
In other years?
Will you, softly,
And promise to return?
Will you bring scented flowers?
Above my face
That I might smell the life above?
Or, when asked of me,
Will you whisper?
'I forgot' it's not,
That I don't care.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The Bitter Kiss of Death by Owain Glyn )
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