by Halifax

ancestor worship

swollen riverbanks
churn humanity out
rising in the pews

sentiment collapses
as ghosts dissolve
wafers over tongues

those escaped selves
dimple crooked paths
seeking cloud cover

Lost in an old idea
I see more in them
than scattered ash

It’s me coalescing
historical elements
conspired in being

pieces set afloat
swirl on a current
before gasping under

each speculation
gives myself freely
getting carried away

You dance beautiful
my pent up reserve
erodes like belief

until it’s only us
and I have to deny
I am just watching

The way we move us
is a broken thought
it means nothing

we live on together
escaping language
you and I will emerge
better known unsaid

2 thoughts on “afterlife

  1. I appreciated the use of water in a river to flesh out (no pun intended) our afterlife. The poem ends with the river ’emerging’ into destination. For me, that would be a lake of fire, but for the poet, it is belonging. Well conceived, sir!

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