boldly
it's a bold thing to mourn
what no one grieves for
too cover the dead
the cracked eyes
with silver
to bring the stars
down
to the silent ground
blasphemy
to steal
beyond the sleeping city
to stand among
the wind blowing in the grass
the rustle
to go below the lighted windows
jingling
pennies for the Ferryman
against your side
to where they lie unburied
to kneel
to call on Heaven
"light their way forward"
the unseeing
lamps for them
"light their way forward"
the moonlight that catches the skin
some quick
and some frozen
that crackles on the sand
by this right--
I, who am the least of these
who am the least of all--
see them honored.
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