The dead don’t love
the way we know it
but they yearn,
a sealed sweet sleeping
like jarred honey inside pyramids
until what’s clay breaks,
releasing open and live
what sustains
lost under all that dust
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Susan Daniels Poetry 
glory, Glory, Glory!!!! She awakens from the sleep of dark umbrage. Good to have you back. Nice piece. In one month I’ve lost my Editor to work and my bestr reader to work. I have been traveling blind. I hope you’re back for a bit.>KB
I am! Send me stuff, man!
Good to have you back!
Thanks, David!
I second what KB said. My smile was big when I saw you in my reader.
Aw, thanks, Audra! Crazy summer happening here. Hope you are well.
I hear ya.
I’ve missed you!!!
Aw, likewise! I need to meander over to see what you have been writing lately 😉
“like jarred honey inside pyramids” – nice. 🙂
Good to see you Susan. Missed reading your words.
Thanks, Holly! Missed your words, too. Crazy summer over here, with fighting kids and heavy workload. Glad to be back!
Miss you more than I realized.
Aw, shucks, Lewin! You made me blush 😉 Thanks–missed you too!
Some amazing images in this one. the sense of love hidden away, unappreciated, unreciprocated.
Oh, yes. I wanted that sense of being hidden away, almost wasted. Glad you caught that!
The dead don’t speak
the way we do and they once did
all voice they now have
are world wide webs
spun and stretched
on our wandering minds
Oh–I like that, Noel!
What longing the dead feel! I like this one. Alice
Thanks, Alice!
They do love, I tell you. The dead do love 🙂 Welcome back, Susan 🙂
They certainly do, it is just secret, strong, and lasts centuries. Ours starts as a flash of feeling.
Ahh, a resurrection of sorts.
Yep. 😉
Brain is gonna have to digest this one, more here than there seems.
Aw, thanks Nelle.
…lost to many but not all.
True.