Being A Boy Poem by Stefan Petrea

Being a boy, I had forgotten death
I remember it and I have snow in my hair
The walls of the casket await me in comfort,
Virgin, today you see your babies
And the green we both sewed in our mouths
And not mine, you take someone else's afternoon -
Being a boy, I had forgotten death
I remember it and I have snow in my hair.
Do you remember I had stolen the dawn
Now, for dinner, you just sigh at them
That shy apples bear no fruit in sweet orchards,
A tear the death while I am leaving me
Being a boy, I had forgotten death.