Dirge for What Might've Been
Dirge for What Might've Been
Eva Nappier
Beneath our house on Lilac Way
Are dead and buried things
A boneyard of “I wish I’d known”
The shallow graves of dreams
Which died before their branches bloomed
Cold winter-buds we pruned
And unerased, the garden shears
Drip sap from guilty hands
To unsheathed eyes now stings the doom
Of seeing what we killed
And wretching sobs seep from the soil
Dirge for what might’ve been
Look! There it is, petals aglow!
It’s cloying sweetness gags
Just out of reach beyond time’s gate
Admittance barred to me
Can I stomach this cemetery?
Can I swallow this stench?
Can I find a way to breathe?
Living right above this sallow song-
Dirge for what might’ve been?
Soft, sings the Sea-calmer
Still, croons the Sleep-watcher
Come, soothes the Shepherd-king
Exhume the old wraiths
Let them scream all they like
Let them wail to their fit mausoleum
Don’t banish the nightfall
That bids dark things creep
Keep them up
Till they’re caught by the sunrise
I’ll sculpt you a house
Unpruned by your shame
In the shape of a cross
To commemorate pain
Up through this rottage
Flowers will sprout
Each one in the shape of
My hand reaching out
My hand, the pierced one
Holding world-weighing grief
Makes way for great joy
Marks a blood-trail toward peace
My thorn-paths of sorrow
Which time does not mend
Lead somewhere worth walking
Love, life, with no end
Eva Nappier
Poet & Watercolorist
Eva is an emerging poet, watercolorist, seminarian, and worship leader living on the Central Coast of California with her three kids, three dogs, and Merchant Marine husband.
Photography by Kseniya Budko