Deaths Quota Flying High

The flowers all have scattered,
  borrowed feelings shout aloud

Mock funeral of celebration,
  grief false beneath their shrouds

The mourning congregation,
  to the tavern marched in step

A ruse to the departed,
  with each toast his memory wept

His friends then hugged his enemies,
  his wife and girlfriend kissed

Through the glass a raven watches,
  taking names without a miss

As ‘last call’ is shouted boldly,
  and all glasses drained of lies

Two wings beat out a roll call,
—death’s quota flying high

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
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Kurt Philip Behm

Longtime writer with twelve books in publication. Three of them Poetry. : The Death Of The Playground : The Sword Of Ichiban : Searching For Crazy Horse : Darkening Sun : An Anthology Of Perception-Vol's 1 & 2 : After Midnight : Sammy And Bumpers : The Fall City Mandate : Revenge Along The War Trail : Death from The Sky more…

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"Deaths Quota Flying High" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 25 Mar. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/45149/deaths-quota-flying-high>.

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