deepundergroundpoetry.com

TREASURES

she was full of lies and secrets
and all the half truths that keep us
on the right track

there were tears, a few stories,
but most everyone who truly loved her
had gone before,
paving the way to nowhere
leaving every stone unturned

as the grass rooted in the red earth
her treasures flew like wrens,
scattered,
nesting in corners,
waiting for the next go 'round
Written by javalini
Published
Author's Note
Maybe we keep death a mystery because we can't face what we really know. We want to believe we'll somehow carry on, but deep down recognize the improbability. Regardless, those things we call our own in life -- things that often define who we are -- are no longer ours in death (i.e. you can't take it with you).
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