Night
for E.M.S.
Last night the wind whirled, shook the windows, rain flashed in the streetlight’s glow, turning to snow then hail, while I, dug in at home, shivered with ancient dread that you in your grave called to be let in with me instead, and seemed to rebuke this unnatural act: that I could accept you were no more than ash and let you be consigned to earth.