By Jess Knaus

Sometimes I wonder

what that line would be like.

Familiar faces or solitude?

Quietness, pain or solace?

Perhaps you gather, collect,

preparing a summary of life.

Seeking the grateful moments

that rose above the rest.

Or perhaps you hover

over regrets and unkind words,

of things you omitted –

things you never enacted.

Some say you see others,

people you once knew well,

who’ve passed through the haze

and are waiting to walk with you.

So you aren’t alone,

even if you are.

They accompany you

to your place. 

Like the click of a door lock.

When above the chaos and noise

our bonds are the tightest,

holding us to this earthly form.

The mark we leave behind. 

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Photo by R Santos.