Through Silence
Sonia Saikaley

The dead are great listeners.
I speak soliloquies -
they never interrupt.

I find solace
when the silver of the moon
paints each tombstone.

Shadows dance together
strangers introduced by death.

Inhibitions do not exist here.

I find solace
trace headstones
with tips of fingers
each letter, each name.
The dead alive as their names.

Their names strong, indestructible.