I went to my beloved’s tomb to set
Fresh flowers by the stone I had engraved
With space for both our dates. Chrysanthemums
Left just last week were vibrant, undisturbed.
Inhaling them, I fell asleep, so deep.
When I woke up ’twas late. The graveyard was
Enveloped in its spectral gloom, gray-blue
Shadows amid cold marble monuments.
Six blackbirds corrugated pearlized clouds.
A phantasm appeared, familiar yet
Strange, burial garb dotted with loose dirt.
Recalling his last words — “Don’t be afraid!” —
I called his name, a string of syllables
To lasso his attention, tug the thread
Between us that’s conceivably alive.
Pale spectral watchers lurked, awaiting his
Reply, when winds caressed me, whispering:
“He’s drunk forgetfulness. You’re now unknown.”
The morning sky escorted me away,
As if released from duties once performed
Of safely watching over cherishing.
