PLACE A COIN UNDER MY TONGUE
by Perry S. Nicholas
when I cross the river,
wide ocean in this instance,
make sure I have signed off
on all the necessary paperwork.
All monetary promises and death benefits.
When I reach the wall of Cerberus,
three-headed dog barking and biting my ankles,
I’ll leave all my belongings behind,
rush forward to a place of black poplars.
For you, I worked hard to reach ordinary life.
Just leave one coin under my tongue
to pay a fare for the ferry across
the river Styx, since love no longer counts—
my years of turmoil are nearly over.
I am no miser; I only want to sail along.
No, these are special cases we’re discussing.
Me, I need to escape your slow, charcoal rage,
be granted an allowance to return
to those fields of music, unbeaten wings,
peacefully waiting for a penniless nothing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Perry S. Nicholas is an Associate English professor at Erie Community College North in Buffalo, New York. His books of poetry are: The River of You, What the World Sees, Small Crafts, Beginnings, and The Company We Keep with poet Maria Sebastian-Nicholas. Perry has recorded one CD of poetry called I’ve Written Too Many Poems.
IMAGE: “Psyche Pays Charon to Cross the River Styx” by John Stanhope (1883).
Silver Birch Press 
I’ve read this poem several times, enjoying it even more each time ’round. It raises some interesting questions, and you’ve given your reader some splendid images, wordplay and memorable lines.