Parades

The dripping
of the cosmos onto
my shoulders makes me
weep, an infinity 
dies in front of me
on the deserted night
streets. Traffic lights
blink in mourning
and the winds serenade
these fallen heros.


I cup their
burning bodies 
in my hands
and christen them
with salt water.
Weigh them to the earth,
making them stay.


The parade goes
by as they fall
by the millions and 
I carry them on in
my heart.