Dylan Is Gone Poem by Kurt Philip Behm
Dylan Is Gone
Dying alone on foreign ground,
death grips his blessed hand
Never choosing time or place,
method certain
—the Angels plan
An oak to fall on alien soil,
all seeds to heaven thrown
His words cast free to light the dark,
that ‘Good Night'
—now his own
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January,2017)
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: death of a friend
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5/10/2024 2:12:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
