December 24, 2014


In the afterlife
we'll awaken
in a lonely motel,
each of us
in our own small room,
everyone we ever touched 
staying down the hall,
a name on every door
will say it all.

You'll visit whom you like,
and a few no doubt
will visit you,
asking why things
just never worked out,
why you always saw them
in your rearview mirror,
wondering what it was 
that fed your fear.

Still others will fill you in,
knowing you deserved better
than what they gave you then;
since in death
there is no more pain,
and souls only sleep,
so they might
live again.