Sunday, February 10, 2013

Death Poem


The Mourners

When all the light and life are sped
Of flowing tails and manes,
And flashing stars, and forelocks spread,
And foam-flecks on the reins;
I like to think from every land
And far beyond the wave
A crowd of ghosts will come and stand
In grief around that grave –

~ Will H. Ogilvie