I hoped the dead are up there watching
when I read that Paul Cezanne’s portrait
of his wife sold for $7.4 million.

Paul and his banker father, who scorned
his son’s artistic talent, sitting up there
in comfortable chairs glancing down
through the glass floor as
the auctioneer’s hammer slams
down. “Sold for 7.4 million dollars!”

Did they reach out and clink wine glasses
in comradely celebration, or will Paul and his father
sit there not talking for all eternity?

Do Frasier and Ali glower at each other forever
or do they go fishing together on Lake Merciful?
Are Caesar and Brutus co-captains of the same soccer team ?

I’d like to think that as they rise,
the dead let go of their emotional baggage
and arrive so light-hearted they let bygones be bygones,
not only amongst themselves but also
where those of us down here are concerned.

If that isn’t what happens, we have yet another reason
to forgive each other now before it’s too late.