The Dead—or Goodbye to Ann, Gordon, and Scott
By Joan E. Cashin
Are they close by, on the other side of the membrane,
a gossamer text that wavers as we breathe?
Or are they in another country, forted up behind thick walls
with four turrets and a hundred guards?
And do they know us better now, better than they ever did here,
seeing at last through the veil
our deep loves, secret hates, true virtues, and many faults?
No matter. They are safe in blissful union where souls mingle
free of travail, beyond sorrow, safe.
a gossamer text that wavers as we breathe?
Or are they in another country, forted up behind thick walls
with four turrets and a hundred guards?
And do they know us better now, better than they ever did here,
seeing at last through the veil
our deep loves, secret hates, true virtues, and many faults?
No matter. They are safe in blissful union where souls mingle
free of travail, beyond sorrow, safe.
Joan E. Cashin writes from the Midwest, and she has published in various literary journals, such as Acorn, Ars Medica, The Externalist, Intuitions, Poetry Superhighway, Riggwelter, Soft Cartel, and Two Hawks Quarterly.