who lie beneath the ground,
more voluble than us
who never make a sound.
Their projects are complete
their every tool laid down,
their arts have made their marks -
and every word a noun.
Braver than us they were
walking these barren hills
with none of the weapons we use
to fend off the beast that kills.
Lighter than ours, their hearts,
for what they had was a god
like a star that went before
to guide them where they trod.
Stranger than us, they seem
now the bodies have fallen away
but we're one with each soul and spirit -
all made of the same rich clay.
all seemed so normal
none of her friends intervened
just what you'd expect
her taking all of those pills
then posting Bye Bye to them all -
the grandest of Christmas jests
the package changes colour
as the food goes off
free of past's shackles
brains reassemble themselves
in time - or so they thought
those advocates of ECT
switching off parts of the brain.
(Not all my haiku are haiku - see here)