Gone to Ground
The end before the new beginning. Guerrilla Literature poetry conceptualized, written and published by Kerr Martin, 6/30/26.
Do not mistake silence for death.
Bury me beneath your expectations.
Build a cairn from unfinished poems.
Give me a headstone as long as it reads,
“Here lies a Scottish vampire.
He writes as though he bleeds.”
Winter has always looked like a grave
to people who have never buried a seed.
This summer I commit myself
to the earth and to the skies, unafraid.
I will go,
I will grow.
Blown in the wind,
to-and-fro.
Leave one chair empty.
Leave one page blank.
Leave the porch light on.
Love me when I’m gone.
If I am a ghost worth remembering,
receive me when I return.
This is not an ending,
I cannot say goodbye.
In life, we all die.
Not now.
Not I.
Love so much, hibernation not burial.
“Winter has always looked like a grave
to people who have never buried a seed” such a good line x