A MOURNER, SEARCHING
//
at night you'll find me
in the graveyard, digging,
dirt on bones now skin.
i've pulled up
coffin after coffin after coffin
but there's not a one I'm in.
tell me, why is it so hard
to find a burial?
i'm searching for my death.
years ago, i lost myself
six feet under,
i put some haunted bones to rest.
now i'm a mess of organs
and skin
and i crumple over my heart.
i lean on the shovel,
i search, i search.
it's been years and i'm still
digging in the dark.
[note: in a graveyard you'll find the dead but you'll find some living too -- a pre-mortem haunting by mourners of their old and dead lives, simply looking for something to do.]
YOU ARE READING
Ghosts Lost & Winter Found
Poetrywhen you steal all that's evil and bury it underground: these are our ghosts lost and this is our winter found. collected poems from 2017 [ © 2017 by shaye ]
