Poem – Why Are the Dead So Still (By Fern G. Z. Carr)
Why Are the Dead So Still – By Fern G. Z. Carr Arms crossed, lying motionless in an open casket, he gazes upward through closed eyelids. Maybe if I look hard enough I’ll see him flinch or wriggle his nose at the acrid smell of incense rising from the censer; holy water is sprinkled on his body – it […]
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