My sweet heirs, burn my remains
Death is ugly and I am vain,
Let me not turn green in a box,
Food for worms as my flesh rots;
...
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Now I have this recurring image, of being in a room, such as this parlor you describe, and reading aloud your poems, as I have done so often... This is a rather comforting thought, really... Great poem, as always, Sir... Be well.
A very poignant poem about the ending of one's life and your thoughts on how you want to be remembered. Really remarkable how you express these feelings and thoughts, many people will not talk about these things at all. Love this poem, it coincides with the way I feel about dying, although I don't want to be cremated, just remembered with love. Great poem! Thank you for sharing it! RoseAnn