From Below

Rose petals and fancy confetti for me a fool. I do lament love of life flowing in earthen pools. At death’s bed platitudes will drip from tounges. Leave warm sentiment reserved for the young. I’m not made of brick nor am I of some mortar. I am rife with humanity bury me in earth’s order….

To The Beyond In Song

When dead am I one cold day, underground I’ll finally behave. Into a box then earth it caves around me and my stiffened face. Though my body rots slowly gone, they’ll be some memories or songs that pass from a preacher’s charm that find ears where they belong. As color from the sky it disappears….