Float alone
The dead are talking to me in dreams
The living are mute
They stare at you with intent
I pass them silently, in a hurry
I’m going to bring my father back.
Dead or undead
He doesn’t belong in this in between
Every night I search to find him
by an old well, starting inside
I grab his stiff hand
and keep it tight in mine
We lean quietly by the well.
Listening
And waiting for the big show tonight
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