A Letter From the Dead

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A letter from the dead
Would be interesting to read.
Much more interesting that
The eulogies
We have to listen to.
A letter from the dead. I wonder
What they would say.

Maybe they would tell of
The secrets they never told on earth.
Secret lover, secret dreams, secret treacheries,
Secret pain, secret adventures,
All of the secrets they never told
Even to the ones that they told everything.
The might have kept them for trust, for love, or for fear
But they would tell in the letter
Because even the darkest whisperings
Cannot touch bones in the ground.

Maybe the would dictate all of
Their regrets. The little things they always
Wanted but never
Had.
Always needed but never
Received.
Always dreamt of but never
Captured. The things they always said
They wouldn’t let pass them by
But they did. But then,
They’ll explain this
In the letter.
That they would have fixed these things
If only death hadn’t of come.

Maybe they would recall
Their old memories.
Turning their letter into a kind of
Autobiography. A miniature remembrance
Of their favorite moments now past. They would tell
Of their pets and the way the would rub against their leg
Until they scratched in that special spot behind its ears.
Of their first kiss, out on the porch, in the front door,
Awkward and sill and perfect all at the same time.
Of their trips to the beach where they buried their feet in the sand
And soaked up too much sun until their skin turned red.
Of all the things that made them into themselves.
The factors of an equation that resulted in
A finished life. They would try to show us why these
Recollections mattered. Why their life
Had mattered.
Why, although death had taken them, they had lived.

Maybe they would reveal
The unknown of the what comes next.
Describe the after life things that
Trouble us in our quiet moments
When we can’t avoid
That terribly bothering question
Of eternity and heaven or whatever that
Better place is that we’re told our
Loved ones leave us for.
Perhaps, it’s not better and they wish
They were still with us
But maybe they’ll write that
It’s wonderful and perfect and they’re about
To receive their very first pair of wings.
And we’ll have to smile because it sounds
Like they’re having such fun
Even if we aren’t.

Maybe they would write
The goodbyes they never had the chance
To say in person. The wish that final farewell
The eludes even the most efficient sometimes.
Wish their companions good luck
With all their dreams and troubles.
Remind their families they love them
Despite angry words given.
Thank strangers that changed their paths
Whether or not they knew
And for the last time, to tell that one other person
Who they said they could not live without
That they would miss them like a dandelion seed
Misses its stem
And that they wouldn’t go
To any better place
Until they came
And held their hand for the rest of all the things
That come after.





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