by Alex Pavljuk

Three knocks against the rose kissed wood coffin three feet beneath the ice and snow tinted sea.

The last of the corner’s well wishes blew away on this hollow December eve.

The smell of the garland wreath buried down deep seeped through what was supposed to be a deceased man’s final seat.

Yet the bells of once longing priests couldn’t cheat the death of the old man, Evergreen.

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