Moirea / Voices Literary Magazine volume 14 / 2021

Page 11

VOICES

POETRY

and

Cradles Caskets Jordan Jeffreys As soon as I could walk alone, I ventured through the cemetery. I frolicked on decaying bone; Danced with statues of Virgin Mary. And as soon as I could prattle, I spoke with the souls of the forlorn, Left them shells and keys that rattle, So they would not follow me and mourn. As soon as I could read and write, I learned death’s etchings; dusting, scrubbing, Pulling on weeds beneath moonlight, I crafted a book of grave rubbings. And as soon as I could atone, I pondered all the temporary, And listened to trees sway and moan, Accepted death as arbitrary. As soon as it was time to go, I hugged goodbye every last gravestone.

Z

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Moirea / Voices Literary Magazine volume 14 / 2021 by Beth Swann - Issuu