- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Mother Earth
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Who'll close, who'll kiss your pretty, broken eyes?
Who'll be the one to wash you, and to dress
you in your Sunday best, and brush your hair,
remembering your all? Whose rueful smile
will praise you, come your exit? All alone,
deserted, old, unburied and unblessed
you must decay uncared-for and undressed -
who will take notice of your passing? Why,
the strongest, you will be the last to die.
- COMMENTS
DawnJover 8 years ago...fast approaching, overwhelming Mother Earth! I like the metaphor, my friend.
greenmountaineerover 8 years agoI tend to shy from a theme like this, demure, but you handle it so deftly.
