If at All

by Vyt Bakaitis

Where the word leads
is no guidance
we have been there before
if at all
over again beyond doubt
whether the ice will melt
with the corpses snug in the harbor

What you were spared could not have happened
the voice of the dead was a cutting wind

Each letter shakes on its stem while the root has a climber

They stood in the small stand of woods like the trees
with suitcases packed and no wherefore to go
and were any still alive we’d remember

While sitting on the hilltop
from the top of a stump
I kept watching the stars
with darkness a cold wind
kicked straight in my eyes
that carried the somber pine grove’s song
down to all sleeping humankind

And was it just that
time went by

Or maybe death
itself went with it

with everything I wanted to clear my mind of
but the mind played this trick

if I could only remember