©Gerry Black 2010

Dead, don’t look back 24.5.9

Our dead do not turn into a blink of coins like golden-age computer foes,

left clinking in the clutch of Memory’s purse, leaving by some sorrowed,

‘settled’ score.

The dead do no more than any fallen

stops and dropped

apostrophes are

wont to do: give grammar to the living stream of racing,

rampant conversation, pause it only...

...directing through the funeral door, bequeathing just a list of reasons

to think on: live on, learn to dance, make music, rest peacefully not excessively

and on;

through the doors of life and passages of Memory they teach quietly from beyond

to those patient or respectful who still stop still now

to look back smiling, through the grave to an age

where time was never stopped by tombstones.