Ken's Poetry

Now You Are Dead

Do not touch my arm,
I don’t want to feel
the warmth of your hand.
Do not smile at me
with glistening soft green eyes
I know that you are dead,
the misery is yours.

No more fresh golden days
all joys and sorrows gone,
no love to take or give
no friends to greet,
the caring that you gave
all dulled by dust.

Do not talk to me at night,
pass your familiar words
through my lips
nor answer when forgetfully
I call your name …
for you are dead.

I know that you are gone
I kissed your cold white cheek
saw the coffin closed
threw soil on polished wood
walked home along your path
back to the cared-for things
your hand had touched,
wept at all the things
you left behind;
I know that you are sad
now they are gone.

Don’t smile at me!
Don’t touch my arm!
Don’t comfort me …
now you are dead!