The Slab

 

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What can I tell you now
of this place owned by the dead?
There’s a white slab
scrubbed and washed down
until it has no trace of red.
There’s a coldness there
that tries to seep inside
to chill your bones.
There’s a silence there
that echo’s from the walls
just like a tomb.
There is no sense of breathing there
as if the very air
had lost the will.
But that is not to say-
that everything is still.
No something is here
that cannot escape
although longing to be free.
And some nights when I awake-
sweat drenched, under white sheets
I think that it is me.

© Fingleton (novembre 2016) (Löst Viking)
( posted on Facebook as ‘Place owned by the dead’)
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Löst-Viking/746104845419195

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