how now spirits
thoughts so frail
a little sun
would do thee well
yet ‘twould further
disguise what ails
for what good is wind
in a doomed ship’s sails?
what good is perfume
to mask the smell
of a body long passed
beyond this veil?

long rang the bell
the accursed knell
traversed this earth
still walked the shell
drinking deep
from an unholy grail
to invest in the chest
an ever present wail
in line, on a rail,
on the smoking trail
of the brightest star
that so ancient fell

-m.p. 04/20/2017