I
didn’t know, did you, that
Shakespeare’s
brother
(his
name was Edmund) is
buried
somewhere on the grounds
of
Southwark Cathedral
not
far from the Globe
where
Julius and Romeo
both
had bad days with knives.
No
one’s sure where Edmund
actually
is, a short curtain call
from
the rail station and the Shard,
the
newest skyline drama
playing
the London landscape.
But
Edmund is there, asleep,
perhaps
dreaming of the light
breaking
through the windows
above,
the windows around,
occasionally
falling near
the
sculpture of his brother.
I never knew that Shakespeare even had a brother! Loved this poem, Glynn! Blessings!
ReplyDeletethat hunk of glass
ReplyDeleteresembles
the shape of spires