Something Unknown by Dawn Watts

Tw/: death

I watched his body lay still in the casket. He looked as if he could still take a breath, surrounded

by blue satin. I summoned my hand to touch his arm. Hard as stone. Fingers fused together.

His body is just a reminder he was alive. Saddened by the absence of his spirit, where has he

gone?

Nothing will grow but sorrow for the spirit.

Rain falls

The lost fruit

On the vine

---

Dawn Watts creates poetry and prose. She has been published in Serotonin, Stone of Madness Press, Tealight Press, PocketFire Presents, Mixed Mag, Melbourne Culture Corner and Ligeia. She lives in Chester Pennsylvania and can be found on Twitter at @wattswritten.