In the old days at the edge of the Finnish woods my father’s father and in turn, his father
Raked the dry weeds and lit a bonfire but they went about their work so cautiously
One might think they were burdened by superstitions.
& yes they kept a spare coffin in the house, eating off of it, using it for a table.
“In these dark times,” they would say. “In these final days…”
& though my father’s father’s father was a Christian
Though he believed in the life everlasting
Hhe was afraid of willful nature.
& while praying they burned that unused coffin.
& the sun dipped to the dark horizon …
S.K.
Planet of the Blind 