ALL SOULS DAY
Gathered together on this holiest of days
when the leaves sound like rattling bones
the eve of the loosening of sorrow is upon us.
Come, put your face against the ground.
Listen to the humming of ants
marching deeper into the earth,
beetles crawling through rotten wood
the constant tap-tap-tap of time
in a plume of fungus spores
shooting towards old bones, taking root
in the jagged edges,
digging at the wounds we once
wanted buried.
I will wear the green dress of my grandmother
and you will wear my father’s best cufflinks
and words that have held their place will be ravens.
Tonight is for whispering, for asylum, for gazing
at the night sky flecked with indigo and umber
and gathering it in my dress folds like apples.
(First published in the Winter 2007 issue of RUNES, Literary Review.)