Copyright 2014 by Bob Rogers

Daring to be deceased

I climb in and cover the top.

Ah, but early it is and foul

As animals are on the prowl.

A cat toys with my tomb

Trying to roll the stone away.

Go on! I’m not the Christ–

Nor is it the third day.

Hearing fades to seeming

Seeing fades to dreaming

Time rots and relaxes my body

Though anointing oil smells strong.

A skylark screaming outside

Loud enough to wake the dead.

A thunderbird thunders by

Joyfully jolting my head.

Resurrection is not my request.

From awareness I wish release.

Animals, go back to the zoo

And let me rest in peace!

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