Gravedigger

I walk before you now
a humbled man.
Already unmasked,
I am at your mercy
and God’s.

It’s too early to put flowers
on the still open grave
I have dug at your feet.
We have not yet decided
what it is we choose to bury.

Will it be me?
Or the friendship I cherish more.
The pit beckons,
yawns, and waits.

Is there not something else,
a burden neither of us needs
we can offer to fill this hole?

Pain, fear, and doubts.
We hold to them like ancient toys—
battered, broken, ours.
Might we toss them in?

I have so much junk
I’d like to shed.
Don’t you?

Why must we fill this void,
this graveyard in our hearts,
with the most precious gifts
we’ve given each other—
our trust, our friendship,
our love.

Can they not be spared…
somehow?

I pray,
while the pit beckons,
yawns, and waits.