Burial
       

She whispers—The ocean
is a stone's throw deep.
Her floating hands are the skeleton of a leaf.
We look into her eyes.
We find there are clouds.
They have risen from where the sun dies
into water at night.
The rain
falls faster and faster.
We feel it less and less.

Copyright © 2009 Matt Jasper All rights reserved
from Moth Moon
BlazeVOX [books]
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission