Before you go to heaven
(you will, you wait and see)
you will have to pack
everything up: dreams,
walks not taken, trees
unclimbed, whole sentences
still unspoken, days un-used,
boxes and boxes of lies.
A removalist named Grace
will take it all from you with
promises of a swift delivery.
Almost at the end of infinity
your boxes will arrive
strangely battered, patched,
burst and leaking, some items
belonging to someone else,
maybe a vinyl chair of
indeterminate meaning or
a surfboard as long as
a room. You will accept
it all
and this is what will
occupy you for the rest of
that long day ahead of you.
Wonderful Kevin. Also a fabulous transmutation of the unpacking going on at your place...
ReplyDeleteWonderful Kevin. Also a fabulous transmutation of the unpacking going on at your place...
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