Kathleen O’Neil is from Liverpool NY.
To Exhale
By Kathleen O’Neil
The fête is upon us,
this is thanksgiving. The smooth, heavy taste of sugar
and the firm scent of meat, spices.
Tart fruits spill over cool stone tables.
Even the wise look renewed, fresh and brisk.
There’s no smoke; it’s
long gone.
Everyone merrily rends
their bread into strips and pours from carafes of wine,
but I …
I can feel it there,
permeating the sheets,
the lines, the
tea towels.
There’s no past,
only the deceit
of burial.
The dead aren’t gone,
they’re looking up at us from below.
They lie there,
watching.
I love the line “even the wise look renewed, fresh and brisk”.
Lovely work.
Nicely done. Sometimes when I get up during the night, I see shadows…fluffy things all around me.