DEATH Poem: Centurion, by Mica Frank

Rise, Fall, Rise, Fall
Touch, blink, song, prayer
Rise, touch, silence.
Tears shed, goodbyes whispered
Corpse left, the end is over.
The Centurion takes its place
By warm corpse, cooling corpse
Await the undertaker
Guarding empty, gone, important
Angels, ghosts, and souls departed
Look after indelicate meat
Relinquish your charge, Centurion.
Don’t Look.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest