The Death of the Jester's Son
By Angela Stol
Who says Death is black?
It is white as your unsoiled dress shirt
like your mother’s faithless shoulder
like the aqueous mass where tremble
the astonished eyes of your father.
White
as your bloodless cheeks
rested on the chest of a false queen
crowned and shielded by her mantle of broken stars
she, who holds your little body in another version of Michelangelo’s PietÃ
only heavier and darker
empty of mercy and redemption.
And then, who said Death is black?
Angela Stol is new contributor
You can find her work at
misegundavezblog.wordpress.com
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