The Wilful

The Wilful

I have seen shades who will not lie down,
Not done with living nor content with dying,
Ready to rise at the least disturbance
Of their soil. Moles interrupt them
From the business of mouldering; worms
Channer without persuading them,
And when the thrush's thrum simulates
Rain, they reply with a breathless rapping.

Snow excites them to alertness
Like yuletide children who will not stay
Abed. And when the ground opens
With another yawning grave, they stand
Behind their tombstones, gaunt, lonely
Welcomers, like shadows at a housewarming:

"Not long dead? You won't get used to it.
Yes, it seems so futile,
We know. Who says the fear of death
Expires with our last breath,
Or that the will to live is not eternal?"

Poem by Giles Watson, 2010.

Category:

Film & Animation

Tags:

• poetry
• poem
• ghosts
• haunting

[PassionateMistress]

Ah, right up my street... much enjoyed, my friend.

I will take this opportunity to wish you a Happy New Year! Try and avoid the Typhoid if you can, best for 2011 ;-)