News of Life on Earth

A corpse can hold code,
Can say as much on
Mind, can speak for minds
As much as a brick,
A rock wall, a book,

A space suit that floats
Free with no one in
The shape, just all that
Mind stuff that made it.
Bones in skin and clothes

Saved in a tomb or
Left out on the side
Of a road in woods
Are not bare of thoughts.
They just lack a voice.

It’s we who are ghosts,
Who float past to read
The signs, lift them off
The clothes, the bones, corpse,
And take them with us.

There’s wind in the leaves.
The suit drifts in space.
The ghosts who glean bones
Hunch down to see what
We can make of these.