Report from the Border

They could not leave their houses & had to begin
burying the dead in their gardens.

After several months they had to layer the dead,
shoving potatoes or roses aside.

Afterwards, they swore, 
they would dig the dead up again,
bury them one by one: the order 
of crops & roses would be restored.

Nothing would stop them but death.

They said this solemnly, without irony.
When you cede the portion of the garden reserved for potatoes 
to corpses, 
words lose their edge.

Lynne Knight | Unbidden Song
Contents | Mudlark No. 62 (2017)