Outside

as it is

the dead are circles of cold wax

torn from stars in glass nights

they hide behind ears

and hang like children on gates

this bone familiy is on the hunt

wearing clothes that hang like martyers

not benefitting from sleep

they paw at your insides

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is such a timely poem...Halloween...children on the hunt for treats, dressed in costumed garb...
but also a nod towards those who have gone before us...those we have mourned and missed and loved and still love....as their memory will forever "paw at our insides"---
written with your usual grace and style,
j.