The Possibility of Resurrection

Elizabeth York Dickinson

 

I settle in

graves more

than groves.

 

Earth is filled with

the corpses of each

silent leaving,

not the song of a thrush.

 

Want births the

piecing together sockets

of steadfast bone, pasting

the flaking flesh

I still want to claim.

                                   

Spirit clings to the

possible coming from

another death.

Dusting remains of a hand.

 

His blooming

embrace, the scent of

laden leaf piles

wind continually holds.

 

***

Elizabeth York Dickinson received her MFA in writing from Sarah Lawrence College. Her poetry and photography have appeared in Gravel, Foliate Oak, Royal Rose, Ghost City Press, Riggwelter and Ink in Thirds, among others. She currently resides in Evanston, Illinois.