Lazarus Walking Past
Morning; sunlight arising
from behind my dorm filters
dull echoes of a shuffling train
tapdancing to the synchronous melody
of salsa feet and clacking chains.
from behind my dorm filters
dull echoes of a shuffling train
tapdancing to the synchronous melody
of salsa feet and clacking chains.
My eye goes to the peehole
Gazing out into the passage of Hades
As the train suddenly comes to a halt.
Carefully, I whisper:
“Lazarus, Lazarus. Tell me
was you dead when He called you forth?
Are you dead once more
now that you are here with me now?”
No answer, except the brash command
from behind the line, instructing the train
to move, move along
hanging time is awaiting.
