Happy Yellow Urn

Her skin was powdered-donut pale
her eyes, not bright with life --

her mouth, agape in great exhale,
how frozen stiff with strife!

Until her turn to burn in furnace
find enlightenment then furnish

mantelpiece, in happy yellow urn.

K.R. Copeland

If you've any comments on this poem, K.R.Copeland would be pleased to hear from you.