Comments about R.L. Ohlhausen
A Poem of My Death
Mouths do honor these lips grown cold, fall
On the deaf the words not told.
While among living, dare none so bold,
Broken hearts, no silence said.
O’ Wait to share, now that I am dead.
Stale breath fades and soul does mend, where
Peace has beginning, and pain an end.
Slumber wakens to become my friend.