... (x)

written awhile ago, before I left.

---

bury me under silver skies

fading to blue

under drifts of hanging stars

bundled nebulae rising shaggy

thick and green

edged in light

sink me when

the birds are clicking

bury me face bare

to the dirt

I leave my corpse in trust

the dust and heavy rains

and trickle from the sprinkler

will tend it

the winds will tend it

when I come striding the boulevards,

again

heavy, and in defeated triumph

I will see my ghost

peering brightly through the leaves

I will take the hands of the seconds themselves