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Lethe’s Lullaby

by LindaAnn LoSchiavo

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.

Copyright © 2020 by LindaAnn LoSchiavo

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