after Emily Dickinson
Because I did not turn my signal on for Death—
Sandy speaks to me
beyond her grave
her voice on YouTube—
ricochets.
He harshly stopped for me—
The body is gone
& the words remain
she says,
You can’t tell me God ain’t good.
& I want to believe her
but how did you die
& when did the murdering start?
The police car held but just Ourselves—
So many questions
you cannot answer
& They will not answer
but you testify in Death.
She says again,
You can’t tell me God ain’t good
& I want to believe her.
I am a black woman, too—
I fasten my seatbelt—
I check the speed limit—
push the needle to hover
just under 30 mph.
I click the turn signal in my car
& I say her name.
And Immortality.