In the Days of Lennon

All satisfaction afforded
in that final frontier.
But here,
we square our shoulders,
while somewhere
in our vicinity,
someone closes weary eyes
for the last time.

Those having passed,
their ghost faces rising,
their spots recently vacated,
as new folks
repeat their gestures,
and God,
with an allegorical flick,
waves them through.

They continue living
with practiced eyes,
and only at the end
do they diminish,
turning into mysterious shadows.

Nothing so dire
as falling through a crack
by virtue of
their extraordinary activities,
having been performed
throughout their lives,
within the framework
of such a revolutionary thing
as love.

Linda Imbler has seven published poetry collections and one hybrid ebook of short fiction and poetry. Read other articles by Linda.