Name

Image by Tino Koschinski

Name

Early breaths,
suddenly alone
they buried my shadow
in a churchyard womb.
Borrowed time.
Named after some boyhood friend
of an older brother
from another clan.
Borrowed name.
Call me what you will
but my shadow clings
tighter than the name.
We share a life,
each stolen breath
a sentence,
a judgement,
a tear - silent spoken.
Call me what you will;
we have another name
my sister and I
shared
in the womb of eternity.
Rotting flesh and the press of earth
neither separate nor heal
but call our name.

Keith Wallis

Posted over on Applehouse Poetry