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a soon-to-be-needed grave
empty as of yet
but i sit watching and wonder
who will soon sleep forever within it.
are they young?
a firefly in the dark,
caught in sweaty hands
and confined to a small sapce.
my feet tap against headstones
and i snap my gum in my mouth.
maybe they are old
an owl bred in captivity that finally flies away
despite its clipped wings and handler's shouts.
i crack my knuckles and tap another headstone,
zipping up my coat.
maybe this grave is meant for someone like me,
a koi flopping on the banks of its pond,
the air killing it seconds before it hits water.
i shuffle my feet and kick open the gate,
and my fingers brush a broken cross.
:iconmerciful-or-chaotic:

Author's Comments

you tell me to study the oregon trail, and somehow THIS thing turns up instead.

written months ago.

mm.

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June 27
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