Her Death

by Brandon Roy

Since she is dead
she is now good
silence is her will
to speak no more
the living will not
bother you

A fair sky at
dusk,and the
headstones all
in a row
day wedding night

The closing flowers
The faint lights

The growing hours

Have no claim
On her stiff corpse

A cry,a stare
flickering candles
whispered prayers
for souls that
were lost

Make them hear
the falling eyes
dying to see them
again