I stared with curiosity as your eyes died.

Those  viscous black marbles once full of war,

now stare at a wall many before you examined.

Jesus is coming someone tried to comfort too late.

It is easy to say you’re going somewhere mighty fine,

you’re finally going to cross that eternal line.

Someone please tell me how it is you say

the return trip much than the first, only sounds

of locomotives, diesel trucks, and ambulances

return a blankness so many of us are afraid is truth.