Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DEATH (1), by MAXWELL BODENHEIM


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DEATH (1), by                 Poet's Biography
First Line: I shall walk down the road
Last Line: Between the cold waves of his hair, as he tip-toes on.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


I shall walk down the road;
I shall turn and feel upon my feet
The kisses of Death, like scented rain.
For Death is a black slave with little silver birds
Perched in a sleeping wreath upon his head.
He will tell me, his voice like jewels
Dropped into a satin bag,
How he has tip-toed after me down the road,
His heart made a dark whirlpool with longing for me.
Then he will graze me with his hands,
And I shall be one of the sleeping, silver birds
Between the cold waves of his hair, as he tip-toes on.





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