Sometimes I dream of of being carcass, corpse, remains
Sometimes I dream of dancing with the dead.
Sometimes I dream of blood and bones; decay and rot;
of being none and nought; of being left alone.
Sometimes I see the lichen headstone with my name upon;
and hear a knell of bells that call for ever deeper sleep.
Sometimes I dream of breathless soil and ash;
I dream of vacant eyes, scent of earthworms, snails and mold.
Sometimes I wake and sense a presence in the room
and wonder when it’s time for me to leave.
Time for OLN at dVerse hosted by Grace. Bring any one poem you want.
January 11, 2017