by Ivan Donn Carswell

But I am not yet dead and yet I rest my head
sweetly on the bare gravestones of great poets,
I am not yet dead though I sleep soundly
in the graveyards with their bones;
it is an immaculate relief to me
that my thoughts freely accompany theirs,
that we share heirs and familiar themes,
that they smile indulgently and ask
where I have been.
© I.D. Carswell

Last updated May 02, 2015