He’ll part this world with feathers on his feet, <br />the ton of five & dime cement no longer heavy, <br />his battered brow resembling morning wheat <br />as sunup blesses rusty Dodge and Chevy. <br /> <br />And hipsters coming out saloon and church <br />will mark a glimmer of unworldly light <br />when for a second he climbs walls to perch <br />by Jesus, having left for good the night. <br /> <br />And yet, his debt now paid in full, he’ll bask <br />in glory on the surface of the sun <br />as bubbles rise and peel away his mask, <br />and he himself, no longer on the run, <br /> <br />embraces peace, peace that will greet us all <br />(the twin of silence in that timeless land) , <br />since feathers and cement won’t break our fall <br />and faith’s too airy to provide a hand.<br /><br />Leo Yankevich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/godfather-4/
