undead seasons

Some days, zombies roam in me. Their pungent decay
fills my senses - eyes water, nose runs.
Cold fingers with still-growing fingernails
claw my insides, chill my heart, promise
immortal mortality with their groaning, slavering,
insatiable mouths. Bite down

on moonlight - gliding through urban streets,
colliding with puddles and bouncing back, penetrating
homes' windows (patch on the bedspread
shifting with the night sky), and laying siege
to rooftops, balconies, sidewalks, parks, empty
lots. Catch my breath, swallow

air down the right pipe, pulse with each
beat. This autumn air braces, brings heavy frost
to coat the ground, harden the mud... losing
the barefoot connection to ground.
"Keep your feet muddy," Sakaki says, meaning
fully. Sakaki also says, "Let's eat stars."

Nourish the soul on starlight
for in the oncoming darkness of the night
season greenery recedes, gives way to the barren
fields and bare branches, dried crisp flower stalks
- and up rise the dead inside through frozen ground.
Eat stars, and don't let that winter dark consume.