Scraps

Libraries and museums
hold scraps of death and life
brought into them by living souls
and left to them by the dead.

I sit with this for a long time.
Weakening rays of sunlight
come in at a slant and fail,
one by one, along these long halls.

Stepping out at the end of the day.
I wonder: which relics tell which story
better; which stories are of life,
which of death?

Relics don’t tell their stories easily but
I turn on my heel and leave them to burn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T