Cemetery at Sunset
They sleep near the swish and swirl of traffic;
By the rush of creek water over and around ancient boulders
They sleep in the lengthening shadows of a dying day
Beneath cool emerald blades of shimmering grass.
Their lives have stopped, yet the souls of
So many others speed past them, oblivious.
I stop and stand silent on a patch of sacred ground,
A solitary figure straddling the short distance separating
Life from eternity.