Neon Lights

Stripe the horizon
As in a banner of silk-
Shiny yellow, dreamy pink
And a brightly green.
Hanging down
Inscribed with nothing,
Nothing at all,
What could it mean?
Death is coming—
It has made its home in the attic,
Broken the lock, thrown the soldier
Off the horse, he must have fought
With his blood and heart.
Through the cobwebs and layers of dust.

It is many years since
My father had fallen and I visited
My ancestral home.
The room was dimly lit on an unguarded roof
Where nothing had existed ever before.
Death was cheating—
Lying in wake at the end of murky pathway.
Who could be up?
An excavated mind
Having returned memory after memory,
A life damaged with time,
A life on Sabbath.