For all I know
I’m standing on someone’s
unremembered grave
Friday haiku 115
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For all I know
I’m standing on someone’s
unremembered grave
For all I know
I’m standing on someone’s
unremembered grave
Is it possible to add anything
to a life, to ensure no alley
is left unexplored, no mystery
unexplained, no new device,
no diversion, no distraction
to hurry us along toward
the end of it all, the last
deceit, the final jest?
Shall we die wishing for one more
object, a last lunch, an unread memo?
Shall we panic at the end, unready,
as if no one had told us about this?
If water is life
The sky is immortal
Sigh the trees, fading.
Soaring high above
inside the red-shouldered hawk
the souls of sparrows
In the antique shop
on the ground floor
of the building
where my parents lived
the year they married
I thought I heard someone
call my name
as if I lived there
too, so long before
my birth in the camp.