For Halloween
Sonnet No. 95
[October 30th, 2013 – 7:07 pm]
We are only made of matter that dies,
Of bones and marrow; of skull and of brains,
And every thought we had will end in sighs,
As those who bury us mourn our remains.
A Roman mosaic of a skeleton
Shows him toasting fate with pitchers of wine –
His memento mori is a ghastly grin
To remind we toil under a heavy fine.
But, finite as the threat hangs on our head,
Our necks are blessed with freedom, and with choice,
For those who have loved can never be dead,
And their thoughts will ever find living voice.
Horace said:
monumentum aere perennius
,
And meant Love is the bronze tough enough to preserve us.
- 6
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