i have become silent,
the alabaster vampire
in an anne rice novel,
unmoving
i come from nothing
like my father before me
& i walk in my mother’s path
on days when the sun
won’t rise,
i wait for my lover to wake
the land beyond the garden
is haunted
by figures shrouded in fog,
spanish moss
parting for their passing
i sense their fear
of the living,
the way expectations
of others around us
suffocate our spirits
the best i can do
is walk among them
on deer trails in the woods
between here & home,
silver rain gathers
on the swollen river
i hold myself close
to the trunk
of an ancient fir,
roots between my splayed legs,
waiting for a break
in the storm
~~~
