Please place the coin under my tongue.
I know I am dead now, but it is important.
The coin is for Charon, the boatman,
who will row me over the River Styx
to the underworld where those of us
who breathe no longer go.
If this is not your way, please forgive,
but I am a pagan in your eyes
and it does matter to me.
I do not wish to be stranded on the shore.
He needs his fare. It is a simple fact.
He should have his due.
I will be content in the shade
as I have been so many days
under the grey branches and lush leaves
of the Japanese magnolia in the front yard.
There is a soft breeze there
that waves the ferns.
A Dying Request by Carolyn Tokson | Sandalwood & Vanilla Poetry Reed Diffuser
$20.00Price
