“The Dead” by Billy Collins (and special announcement)

The dead are always looking down on us, they say,
while we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down through the glass-bottom boats of heaven
as they row themselves slowly through eternity.

They watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,
and when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
drugged perhaps by the hum of a warm afternoon,
they think we are looking back at them,

which makes them lift their oars and fall silent
and wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.

Billy Collins, from Sailing Alone Around the Room, Random House, 2001.


and a special announcement:

Words for the Weekend is back this weekend with another installment in our Apocalypse series. I’m excited because I wrote a piece (as Christy Anna Beguins) just for the series titled, “Just Another Day: Signs, Memories, and Bob Marleys.”

From my intro:

This is a story of survival: how memory and music can sustain us, nourish us, and keep us alive; how undying love can light up the darkness. All you have to do is believe. Do you believe like I believe in magic?

For friends and readers here who may not follow that site (it has been quiet for a while), please drop by to visit. I’d love your thoughts and feedback on my story. Look around and hit the follow button while you’re over there; we’ll have another installment very (very very) soon.  Thanks! ~ Christy