The Cost of Death

The Price of Moving On 

Cover my eyes 

when I die— 

so death 

does not see you 

and mistake 

your grief 

for an invitation 

Life moved on 

death moved in 

I have gone from this house 

the pale rider now lives here 

Even now 

the house remembers 

the footsteps 

the laughter 

it knows 

who belongs 

and who doesn’t 

grief bangs 

the pantry door 

at midnight 

and death 

loves a house 

that echoes

 

Do not linger 

on the porch 

Close the gate 

do not look back 

I am more than the dust 

settling on the mantle 

or the draft 

beneath the door 

I am the love we built 

the warmth of my hand 

the cadence of my voice 

Keep those 

in the light 

but leave 

the silence here 

it belongs to the rider 

and you have miles 

left to walk 

Grieve 

Go 

© Ron Simpson Jr.