I Wish The Dead Could Talk Poem by Sheena Blackhall

I wish the dead could talk
Could rise and face the sun
Could break the clods that hide
Those by death's blows undone

I wish the dead could speak
When evening closes in
And so assuage the hunger
To meet lost friend and kin

The dark moves in the evening
The dark moves in the trees
I lie awake, not knowing
If death brings pain or ease

Oh ghosts, do you remember
When we were close as breath?
And walked the world together
With ne'er a thought of death?

I wish the dead could talk
Could rise and face the sun
Could break the clods that hide
Those by daith's blows undone