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You Can Steal From The Dead
by Michael Brett |
You can steal from the dead, slide The rings and watches from their hands, And with the self-same Rolex sweep Their reputations, partners, plans. You can bow before the dead alone, And look upset when they're flown home. On red carpets, behind silk ropes, Build your name on their pockmarked slopes. Golden letters, salutes at dawn And marble angels on cropped lawns, And bugle calls that thrill the air Are cheaper far than wheelchairs. The great thing about the dead Is they agree with what is said. Never argue, don't complain And never seem to die in vain. If faces from oceans of your sleep emerge Or their bands are dreams that beat away Like waves as part of a parting surge It's not the dead you'll see today. It's just part of you stirring, as trees in winds, As people in events. They won't come back. You can steal from them. You can steal from them 'For evermore.' ~ Copyright © 2010 - Michael Brett Published: 6/17/10 · Author's Page · Next Poem |