Advice on Letting Your Dead Go, After Reading Hamlet

by Dawn Levitt

Avoid ghosts.  And well-meaning friends.

You can’t trust the guidance of the dead

when all they want is revenge on the living,

who they want to join them. Beware the

Death’s head, mouth yawning like an open grave,

the clown still digging.

Don’t listen to the fools who want to help you

liquidate the estate, to their benefit and your regret.

Don’t drive off the side of the mountain

or crash into the river.  There is no one nearby

who will come to your rescue

before you sink below the surface. Avoid 

misunderstanding, the root of all regret.

When your father returns as a ghost,

release him to eternity, his energy

slipping oil and water through your fingers.

Heft his saber one last time before you return

it, rusted, to its sheath.

Lift your hands to the rain spilling 

down the granite face of the mountain,

tears of an ancient god.

Taste the sweetness flowing from 

the spring in winter;

listen to the yellow-throated vireo, 

blue-gray gnatcatcher,

black-and-white warbler, 

weaving colors you cannot see 

in the dusky wooded hills

into songs you cannot refuse to hear.