Headwaters

The very last of all his aunts

and uncles have now died.

He thinks a lot about the dead
these days. Pictures them alive,
laughing, frowning, working,
teasing, busy maybe thinking
of all the dead they missed.

He's catching up to them,
the dead people he knew well.
He knows he isn't far behind.
He sees he's on that part

of the trail that's gone past
all the waterfalls, up near
the soggy grassland, the
headwaters of the stream--

yes, up where the sky
suddenly opens, accepting all.

hans ostrom 2025