The dead that haunt me
do so as angels
sent by God to assist
my growth
in all things human.

When the first arrived
I feared her dove wings
meant she might
fright-fly into a window
and break her neck.

But I learned
it was my mind
that placed wings
upon her back
and the attributes
of bird behaviors.

She exuded
a sustaining calm
that worked
like a pick
on the locked-off
parts of me.

The angels as a group
acted as a
flotation device
so the deep waters
would not drown me
as they flooded
my dreams.

The dead that haunt me
are light and vibrant
as if alive
in their prime
with moon-glow halos
and love
as their only tool.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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