Mummy dearest,
corkscrewed queen,
embedded six feet down.
Headpiece removed,
your skull looks normal;
too much like mine.
The gods are relieved your reign is complete.
Plague, Old Testament kind;
blood, locusts, first born.
Did they bury you fancy,
with rings on; the sapphire
I gave you for your birthday.
Rest. There will
be no dig; no museum,
no squandering of your remains,
no flowers.
no flowers.
tk/July 2014
Beautifully read by R.A.D. Stainforth ...
