Transitioning Dreams

The rain pounds as gapes between chapped lips wail and

bodies twitch with the convulsions of grief.

My memory haunts…

I see it before you,

I call:

“Brother!--watch out!”

But it is far too late.

The blast rings...your body jerks…

life slips away…

A pine box is now our barrier—

slabs of polished wood shuffling you to a different realm;

the crossbridge between heaven and earth.

I touch its lid, but I do not feel you;

only voided life.

The world delivered you, then gobbled you back.

My nightmare come to pass.