Poem: Untitled

In the moonlight I saw souls
leaving bodies in a flash of light,
bodies dropping like puppets from cut string,
skin, bone and hair no longer held together,
white bones waiting to be picked clean
by sharp-toothed rodents and soft insects.
Once bright – shrill – wondrous – laughing,
and now still as stones.

Joy lasts forever,
but spreads out in waves,
thins to almost nothing,
imperceptible as moth whispers.
That bright complicated soul laughed so loud
like bright light – shrill – sharp – everywhere,
quick curious and then gone.
In the moonlight I heard the sound that souls make
leaving bodies, laughing like pebbles
dumped from a rusty can
into the current.