Pre-Elegy in Cloth

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Death nears the final chapter of your father’s life and soon

will close the covers throw back the last swirl of brandy and hand over the book.

As instructed you will feed the volume to fire bury what remains on a grassy hill.

But not before dipping into a favorite passage not before reviewing climactic scenes. Already

death is fingering the last pages of your father. You look for him on the stand beside your bed

wishing you could take him up wishing you could fall asleep with him face down on your chest.