Someone walked over the grave
I don’t yet occupy.
The wormed earth
that has not yet been burrowed
but waits for me relentlessly
under the moon I sit beneath
while someone somewhere
walks over it.
Each footstep vibrates
up my spine, down my arms.
Trampled plants or grass
or a footprint pressed into mud.
Are these tremors the feeling
when our ghosts forget us
or when the living forgets us?
Either way, I am already forgotten.
Rodger LeGrand is a Pushcart nominated poet and the author of several collections of poetry, including Studies for a Self-Portrait (Big Table 2019). His poems have appeared in many literary journals. He has taught at MIT and Penn. Currently he designs humanitarian education courses with the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative.
