Cakewalk
Kathleen
Vibbert
I
think death must be a cakewalk—
a place for the tired to turn themselves
inside out, then to begin to live again.
And us, here, wing beats inside our intestines;
the dove with its peace, its message tries to
escape
the cage we've provided.
Even
as the tops of our heads split open
our scalps part and the flight begins.
We ask why we are eventually laid out?
Fingers
that once pointed toward empty hallways;
voices stepping into their rattle:
Why
is it taking so long?
We're
all poured neat into a smile.
Our caskets blacken the sun,
as we return somewhere between the roots
of the thornberry.
***
Kathleen
Vibbert's works have been published in Spillway Review,
Electric Acorn, Facets: A Literary Magazine, Lily: A Literary
Review, The Criterion Newspaper, Softblow Poetry Journal, Moondance,
and Celebrating Creative Women. She enjoys scrapbooking
and studying creative writing. Currently, she lives with her husband
in Indiana and has three adult children. Her daughter is a graduate
of Ole Miss, and Kathleen was greatly inspired by the South during
her daughter's stay in Oxford, Mississippi.
©
Kathleen Vibbert