Winding Sheet Poem by Patti Masterman

Winding sheet, where death has had it's day:
Expressions blankly say
No losses and no wins;
No movement and no words
Have purged the slightest sin.

Brain cools, within it's cavity:
And cells become a sea;
Communications slowed,
There is no need to bleed,
No steaming breath to blow.

Still life, a nature scape in works:
The insects aren't remiss;
Their egg sacs down below-
They are the only kiss
Unbeloved death can know.