LAZARUS

The earth fell away
Leaving a wake of hollowness
Heavier than worlds compressed.
 
My poles reversed, my hope, my Lazarus, my less hope.
Paralysed by an absence of reason to be;
I cannot pray or shave.
 
Never laughing, never to cry to shake the night.
I sleep. You don’t. Don’t play. Don’t grow old.
Instead, you grow brittle.
 
Are we  reborn?
Shall I look for your light in other's eyes and sunrise,
In candlelight, spinning tops, corner shadows falling?
 
Bow lips, eyes shut, small feet; red eyes, dry lips.
Nothing weighs as little as my dead baby’s hand,
Except where ahead lay.