David McLansky

Veteran Poet - 1,562 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

When Planting Flowers On My Grave - Poem by David McLansky

How fragile is our love and labor,
It flickers like a wind-whipped flame;
How fast our wick does burn and taper,
Ending life in smoke-like fame;

Plant perennials here in my soil,
Knowing Fate's inconstancy;
That from my grave for all your toil
I'll over-grow your memory.

Topic(s) of this poem: love


Comments about When Planting Flowers On My Grave by David McLansky

  • Pradip Chattopadhyay (3/31/2014 1:32:00 AM)

    How fast our wick does burn and taper,
    Ending life in smoke-like fame

    astounding imagery! (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 30, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, March 31, 2014


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