Photography © Edward S. Gault
Exhuming Me
Beside my mother’s grave,
I watch an anthill grow.
No songbird trills here, save
the ghost of a morning crow.
I whistle Hank and wave
her ants away. I know
I can’t exterminate
them now. How deep, how low
do they, does five years go?
Emerging from her terrain
carrying workers’ remains,
they stack mouthfuls of woe
at my feet. Dear God, don’t wait
for me to excavate
myself and the still below.
I dig, but the work is slow.
Joshua Eric Williams: “I’m a disabled veteran from Carrollton, Georgia. Much of my work focuses on poverty and the supernatural. Growing up without water and electricity for extended periods of time left its mark on my ideas about art, society, and God.”
Edward S. Gault is a poet and fine art photographer. He lives at Mosaic Commons, a co-housing community in Berlin, Massachusetts.
Beautiful