Ferrying of Souls

I put the coins on his eyes,

not knowing

if I did it right,

only knowing what I’d heard.

Is two coins enough?

How much should it cost

for 

safe passage 

from one world to another?

I remember reading,

back in the day, 

Charon

called for two gold pieces?

Did he ever accept silver?

Is inflation taken into account?

I put a dollar on each eye

and I don’t even know what the coins are made from.

Maybe

the boat will pull up and

the ferryman will laugh.

That has to count for something, right?

I know there’s always accounting to be done at the end.

Heart on a scale,

burnt and buried offerings

to guide along the way 

and here I am,

unknowing of what the living need,

let alone knowing 

the needs of the dead.

Maybe it’s a count in the mouth

and not a pair of coins on the eyes.

Maybe I didn’t give him enough

or maybe

I’m sending him with too much.

Maybe he’ll enter another life

as a king,

high and exalted,

a lord over the unfortunate,

a lord over those whose kin know the humility needed

to cross over the great river.
Imagine that, 

a pauper in life, 

an unknown unknown,

and your fool brother 

sends you off with too much gold around your neck

and a target on your soul.

What if it still isn’t enough?

What if you couldn’t leave a place you couldn’t wait to leave?

I hope the coins are enough

and I hope

you’re neither king nor peasant,

neither lord nor layman.

I hope

the next time

my trembling hand

is putting those coins on the eyes

or that coin in the mouth

that I have a better idea

of what to do.

I can’t be responsible 

for the ferrying of souls.