Susurrus

Scene One:

Fingertip touches
under salt sun,
a volunteer hostage,
wrapped in white.
She leans in,
whispers,
“Stay as long as you like,
dead on this wet cedar slab,
feet toward Japan.”

Scene Two:

Writing in shadow,
deep pain alive,
heart on the killing floor,
still beating.
She closes me tight
in her white apron,
leans down,
whispers,
“Stay as long as you like,
wrapped 'round
in mother's comfort.”

Scene Three:

White light
over bodies gone soft
in hot sulfur water,
cypress knees
cold in the night.
She leans forward,
whispers,
“Come in;
there's room for you
and the vivid dreams
that give memory a home.”

relationshipsadfree verse

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