The Bitter Kiss Of Death Poem by Owain Glyn

When I taste the bitter kiss of death
Whose touch will close these sightless eyes.
Will you rise?
Head bent with heavy sorrow?

Or, wait,
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,
Walk away
And promise to return?
Another day.

Will you bring scented flowers?
To place
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.

I wonder?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn