Death and the Donkey (still haven't got the right title)
'Donne's famous piece on Death? Well, naturally,
I know it well, but think my copy's lost.
Perhaps you'll lend me your anthology?'
You briefcased it. Alas,Donne's sonnet crossed
a page, and at the funeral, you rushed
the octave, closed the book, pi-faced - so cruel
to leave that sweet sestet unvoiced. I crushed
the urge to cry out 'Finish it, you fool!'
Resentment rankles still. She was denied
the triumph of that close,and, unashamed,
it seemed Death sniggered in my ear. You lied:
You did not know the poem as you'd claimed.
That night, alone, I read the verse aloud.
Both Death and dolts lack reason to be proud.
grasshopper
(Here's a link to Donne's wonderful sonnet:
http://www.sonnets.org/donne.htm#110 )
|