Scintilla
I kissed a kiss in youth Upon a dead man’s brow; And that was long ago,-- And I’m a grown man now.
It’s lain there in the dust, Thirty years and more;-- My lips that set a light At a dead man’s door.
William Stanley Braithwaite
I kissed a kiss in youth Upon a dead man’s brow; And that was long ago,-- And I’m a grown man now.
It’s lain there in the dust, Thirty years and more;-- My lips that set a light At a dead man’s door.
The speaker remembers a moment from youth when he kissed a dead man’s forehead. Thirty years later, that kiss still feels present: it has lain in the dust with the body, but it also put a small light at the doorway of death.
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