Flat country under much too wide a sky,
the trees and buildings dwarfed. Closefisted light
lies on the narrow road that passes by

the tall wrought-iron gates; the day is stilled
and there's no sound but birds that twitter, far
behind the hedge. A wire basket, filled

with wilted flowers, almost spills its spoils
upon the well-raked gravel. Farther in,
there's grave, old headstones for so many foils;

the day's solemnity breaks on their cold
indifference to order. Overgrown,
askew and out of line, they show a bold

defiance to the modern part, where all
anonymously tidy graves are placed
like last war's traitors lined up at the wall –

you'll never find your well-beloved here
for she you buried wasn't quite the same
as she you loved so well; too many a year

went by before she did, and though the name
engraved in granite is a name you knew
here doesn't lie the one for whom you came.

Report Story

bydemure101© 8 comments/ 1684 views/ 2 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

1 Pages:1

Please Rate This Submission:

Please Rate This Submission:

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Please wait
by Anonymous

If the above comment contains any ads, links, or breaks Literotica rules, please report it.

There are no recent comments (8 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (8)

Add a

Post a public comment on this submission (click here to send private anonymous feedback to the author instead).

Post comment as (click to select):

Refresh ImageYou may also listen to a recording of the characters.

Preview comment

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: