*
they don’t tire me
the dead
as the living do
.

*
they don’t tire me
the dead
as the living do
.
*
if I could just scan
the soil and the earth
looking for ghosts
.
lingering
.
looking for
someone they pretend
they lost
.
taking time
.
while we blindly go
continuing our lives
.
*
I rise early
to search the day
to bide the night
.
ancestors
waiting to be
called out to shine
once more
.
as the moon shines
with the stars
in the sky
.
*
silent are my dead
ancestors
silent are the graves
.
as the photos
mingles in brown tones
or gray hues
.
we gathered little
information
despite searching
,
but a powerful
emotional feeling
raising inward
.
.
.