going home

driving up the hill
i saw the dead passing by
greeting me, waving
their hands, saluting,
many smiled,

one stood up
in his open car
touching his cap,
a dark-haired girl
threw kisses

so many, some angry,
looking away,
some in a hurry,
most of them
staring straight ahead

as they had done
all their life long.
where did they go
at this hour,
late in the afternoon

when the blue in the sky
started to crumble,
mixing with shadow?
me driving home,
who was i to greet?

i am not Nero,
didn't send them
into the arena
to fight, to kill,
to die.

am i now the king
of the dead
or just a friend?
but it was a parade,
some stopped

until they could
see into my eyes.
i let them see
all through,
nothing to hide.

i greeted each one,
even these
i could not remember
and though i could not stand
i sat at attention

until i knew
i must be dead
and it was not them
coming to me
but me going home.