especially in unremarked graves,
never rest easy.
They claw
out of their tombs,
polite skin peeled away
making you confront the rot.
They rise
bringing the deterioration
of the past to the present
and they rest
only after they have truly been fed.
Photo by Simon Wijers on Unsplash
Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings post.
