The Last Big Gig

The Last Big Gig

I hear my ashes calling me

come and climb inside.

Don’t be afraid.  The dog’s in the pie.

Blackbirds scratching at a sarcophagus,

don’t hide, we will set you free

high above Floyd’s great gig.

Death will be a breeze, catch of the day.

The cradle will fall and that’s all.

One comment

  1. MG WELLS · May 8

    Excellent Work, Stan.

    Like

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