Away

[osprey_archer]

A poem, from a Christchurch newspaper my parents brought home for me.

Away
Victoria Broome

At first the dead return
as if they have only been away
on holiday or a business trip.
They cannot help
but surreptitiously look
to see what you have changed.
The back door shoes are gone,
the wardrobe is leaner,
certain possessions
have become artifacts.
Still, the comforts remain.
You look at the dead
amazed, they evade
your questions; say –
they’ve only been away
for a while, look pointedly
around the room, let the
wine glass linger
at their translucent lips.
You lay the table, white plates,
cutlery, linen napkins, salt and pepper
quartered lemons, olive oil,
parmesan and a fresh salad;
give them a placemat
light the tapered candles,
bring out the cellared wine.

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

Yes. My grandfather came back from the dead and joined us for dinner at my grandmother's house one night--in my dream. It was just like this.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I'm glad. It seems a peaceful way to be back from the dead, for a bit.