Empty Man

I carry what’s left of your carcass,
you empty man
whose bones lie scattered about.

You’re no stranger than many a man
asleep in bed,
except you are already dead.

From parts I have put together,
the few parts here
and markings left on your bones,
I conclude
your life wasn’t what we call easy.

I suspect you fled,
were caught and eventually killed,
dragged about, were probably eaten.

That point doesn’t need to be beaten.

Fact is, you’ve been a long time dead,
and, now, in a manner are risen,
if not in the manner expected.

Still, you have come home
in appearance a much older brother.
You’ve been a long time gone.