The Newly Departed

I suppose it’s a character flaw to imagine,

as I do,

that the newly departed are not fully absent.

 

I envision them hiding in plain sight

before transitioning to what we call “the other side.”

 

Surely, our lost loved ones can be found

silently stacking boxes in a cavernous warehouse,

or stationed along assembly lines

plugging wiring harnesses into appliances

as they belt through their stations.

 

I dreamed of my own mother

working in a store that sells nothing but black woodstoves.

I suspect my father can be found in a rundown bar somewhere

tipping back fresh glasses of draft beer.

 

How can death be absolute when nothing else is?

     

I am pretty certain one of the departed

was driving the sky-blue SUV

that wrongly lurched in front of me

at the four-way stop two blocks from my house.

 

—Mitchell Hegman