I mailed a package off to the Spirits,
after staring at death with mournful eyes.
Gravely I dug into the hard earth
Return to Sender stamped in neat letters
on the cardboard coffin holding,
protectively, its morbid contents.
I checked to see if perhaps,
I was mistaken.
Suppose that the heart still beat,
the breath still attended life,
the soft mewls of a hungry stomach.
I wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t anything but lost
in the harsh tears following death’s
Dirt reset to conceal my pain,
I wondered how much postage
it would take to have the tiny package
returned to life once again.