the Unsettled Dead

They found them in the river washed down a mile
from where the car had ran off the road.
Two young lovers chasing whiskey with beer
on a late Saturday night with a fast car.

The river was silent with its secret
and most the local denizens were silent.
The two lovers were from out of town.

But I have seen figures in the forest
not far from where the car plunged
where the roar of American river
swallows the wind in the tall pine.

I see their shadows sometimes
and feel that tinge of fear
when the living touch the dead.

In the night I know she smiled
before the glow of a doe's eye
stepped out in front of the car
and he swerved into the river.

Now with souls entombed in flow
they come up from the depths
only on nights with little moon
to dance as the unsettled dead
deep in the forest while the living sleep.