Two Poems
Alan Dixon, 29 August 1991
It is sad in the grave my master, my chosen Who fed me and stroked me and clicked on the fire, And though you tried to make me comfortable And laid me down gently, wrapped in a towel, And dropped in forget-me-nots and daisies – Day’s eyes for mine, to die here with me – It is sad to think I must lie here forever.
So I beg you,...