Graveyard

0


Life comes to a close
at night as a shovel digs
deep into the earth –
lifting dirt to make a
place for you to live.

At night – I hear a
shovel as sound surrounds
me – my body shivers,
and sweat pours from skin –
moistens a night gown. . .

It is clear now – as if night
were day – a hole deep
a man jumps into its’ emptiness
another man tosses a different
shovel which levels the earth.

The land, flat – sides high.
Bats fly from tree to tree –
ghosts surround men
digging a space for another
friend.

I glance toward the bench
near the oldest part of the
graveyard. And you sit with
your legs crossed, and boots
up to your knees – your hair
has grown – your nails
painted perfectly.

Are you wondering who is
next – or do you know?

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary