Achingly into the lonely boneyard

Where my ancestral ties lie in matters of carbon

And a sense that they left unfinished business

And loose ends

For me to tie together with the tangled roots of my family tree.

Most branches are barren,

Sparsely scattered with leaves on the limbs with living blood.

I pricked my finger on a sliver of starlight,

The pale glow of their skulls peeking out from the dirt

To creep in the night,

Throwing pebbles at my window like a deranged, lovesick fool

To find an aloof distance in their eyes,

Knowing they’ll blame the sun for being too radiant

And death for being too dull.