Love All Things Dead
Till at least I join them, I’ll
love all things dead.
It’s not macabre;
I won’t apologize.
Autumn is everywhere;
quietly silhouettes
of greener times
reach to me.
The dead don’t always die.
Petrified, they lay a path
for us to follow;
surely follow,
I am telling you – the ones I knew in life,
the dead I never met, are with me.
They sit with me and chat
from behind the veil,
not always recognizable,
smartly disguised.
startling me,
flashers quick to flight.
Lingering in poems,
walking leaves of history,
the dead descend.
They re-live. Re-live.
© Kathryn McL. Collins
revised November 5, 2012
Copyright © Kathryn Collins | Year Posted 2012
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