Songs That I Sing for the Departed 


I see the dead complacent, 
still aloof and souls set to fly.

Counter point, fizzle and betrothed,
no one remains from those days gone.

And now once again, leaves morph
from green into the yellows and reds
and oranges of autumn.

My ghost roaming, intertwined with
nature, always; while everything prepares 
for hibernation; yet again.

While you remain in black and white,
photos brittle and fading, epitaph, 
etched into stone, my ghost too, has 
grown weary and yearns for eternity.