Autopsy in the Form of an 

Elegy ~John Stone

In the chest
in the heart
was a vessel
was the pulse
was the art
was the love
was the clot
small and slow
and the scar
that could not know
the rest of you
was very nearly perfect.

Do not go gentle into that good night ~Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Viewing the Body ~ W.D. Snodgrass

Flowers like a gangster's funeral;

Eyeshadow like a whore.
They all say isn't she beautiful.
She, who never wore

Lipstick or such a dress,

 Never got taken out,
Was scarcely looked at, much less
Wanted or talked about;

Who, gray as a mouse, crept

The dark halls at her mother's
Or snuggled, soft, and slept
Alone in the dim bedcovers.

Today at last she holds

All eyes and a place of honor
Till the obscene red folds
Of satin close down on her.

Lament ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Listen, children:
Your father is dead.
From his old coats
I'll make you little jackets;
I'll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There'll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco;
Dan shall have the pennies
To save in his bank;
Anne shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
And the dead be forgotten;
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Anne, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I forget just why.

Time Does Not Bring Relief (Sonnet II)~Edna St. Vincent Millay 

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied   

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!   
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;   
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,   
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;   
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.   
There are a hundred places where I fear   
To go,—so with his memory they brim.   
And entering with relief some quiet place   
Where never fell his foot or shone his face   
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”   
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep~ Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

A Child Of Mine~Edgar Guest 

I will lend you, for a little time,

A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And should his stay be brief.
You'll have his lovely memories,
As solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over,
In search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labour vain.
Nor hate me when I come
To take him home again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'
For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.

Because I Could Not Stop For Death~ Emily Dickinson 

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove

At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;

The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each

Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Song~ Christina Rossetti 

When I am dead, my dearest,

    Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
    Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
    With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
    And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
   I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
   Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
    That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
    And haply may forget.

But You Didn't~Merrill Glass

Remember the time you lent me your car and I dented it?
I thought you'd kill me...
But you didn't.

Remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was

formal, and you came in jeans?
I thought you'd hate me...
But you didn't.

Remember the times I'd flirt with

other boys just to make you jealous, and
you were?
I thought you'd drop me...
But you didn't.

There were plenty of things you did to put up with me,

to keep me happy, to love me, and there are
so many things I wanted to tell
you when you returned from
Vietnam...
But you didn't.

A Farewell~Alfred Tennyson 
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,

A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree

And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,

A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

The Cross Of Snow~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

In the long, sleepless watches of the night,

   A gentle face — the face of one long dead —
   Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
   The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died; and soul more white
   Never through martyrdom of fire was led
   To its repose; nor can in books be read
   The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
   That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
   Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
   These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes
   And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
Afternoon In February ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is ending,

The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes

The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;

The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;

While through the meadows,

Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,

And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;

Shadows are trailing,

My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.