I don’t remember the exact moment I died or why my
thoughts still wander beyond the grave
or why my ghost cannot rest
still desperately clawing postcards, letters and lonely
verse into the dirt of my worm infested heart that feasts on the
love and longings never read, never sent but only lost in the grief of
my words erased over and over again like the washed away
footprints in the bitter unforgiving rain mocking my tears
unloved, never missed; forgotten like the raw beauty of a
passing season into darkness or of a poetry full of aching truths and
wisdoms dismissed for the glorified ugly of a false light most hallow and void

5/31/2015 ©Debbie Berk