Anathallo Noni's Field
When I closed my eyes in Noni’s field
We were lying on our backs.
I dreamt that the ground split a seam,
…our spirits, floating.
When no longer tied into our bodies,
We left them (wrapping)
As a sign, to slip into the crack.
Tired and ready to go.
But I don’t know what goes on.
I touched my grandfather’s face,
He lay fixed in his casket.
He lay sewn shut and folded
So that none could refuse it.
They had posed, they had painted him.
I laughed. I let him go.
His cheeks washed like watercolor sunlight, evening time.
I could never put my hands back to them.
Still, I don’t know what goes on.
Will my thoughts burn in unseen patterns?
Form a dim glow in your mind,
Long after you remember who it was that I looked like?
We saw the sky, swarming full with the light that the fireflies made.
An accidental constellation.
You, how will you go?
Out through your mouth in a sigh?
Into a space we don’t know.
