The mist that remains

Now ghost among ghosts you linger

in silence among the graves,

among the whispers of the life

from whose cocoon you emerged in death.

The flesh and the blood another memory,

beyond the rebirth

shattered fragments form themselves

into visions of doubt and dream.

You once left footprints on sandy shores,

the low tide of life went and the high tide of death came,

and in place of footprints you draw

a vision of life from beyond death.

They come to your grave,

to that stone that hides

what time has not taken

and adore it with flowers and candles.

A cold wind, a falling leaf,

you wonder if you loved those flowers,

if you looked at candles on dark evenings

and saw what you can't see now.

08.09.2016