What is it like being dead

My walk this morning
Left my heart deceased
For an element
Escaped its orbit
with a deep
slow heartbeat

With head tilted in grief
I wonder what life would be
Lying in a wooden stick
With people
Staring my feet
Celebrated like
A king in green

My twin I sent in peace
To visit the land
Of humming bees
That plays the song
For the men in drink
At the bar
Across the snowy street



About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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