|Apr/May 2001 • Poetry|
The Gravedigger’s Song
Once, in a silk cocoon,
I dreamed the dream of light-winged flight
but when the soft cell tore, I fell
through the clouds,
away from the sky
my only voice, the gravedigger’s song,
atavistic rhythms of
cold steel against dirt,
sending prayers up
to the black sky
to the scattered stars
to the heavens
Though I Walk
Though I walk through shadowed trails,
I do not fear the shrouded vales.
Dawn spreads out her rosy fingers,
morning comes and softly lingers.
I look up and my heart takes flight
for even shadows are born of light.
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