On waking this morning:
a hintergedanken
Something, slippery ... unspoken
Looming just out of consciousness
Drove to the nearest cemetery
Lay down in the grass atop John Siemens
Never heard of him before
He was mortal like me
Climbed up and sat on his headstone
My feet dangled
Heels bounced on the etched dates:
1945 - 2004
His entire life unfolded in that one-inch dash
Didn't even make sixty years
Wonder if I will
John said it was unlikely
Other dead spoke to me
Mothers and fathers
Gone angels spinning
Around my disbelief
Jumping down
I left two footprints
Dug into the grave
A defiant act not contained in John's dash
Bought an ice cream cone on the way home
Submitted to Dversepoets.com Open Link Night #97
ha. i have spent a bit of time in cemetaries....grew up with one by my house...and laid on a few graves...its where i used to write songs...listening to those dashes....death will come to each of us...
ReplyDeletesounds like me, rick...just love cemeteries. people say 'aren't you afraid of bringing something home?' i'm not. cause they know i'm one of them...and don't know it.
ReplyDeleteI think it is brave of you to chose the cemetery to reflect and listen to the words of the dead ~ It comes quickly but in the meantime, I most certainly enjoy the ice cream cone ~
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ReplyDeleteGood poem...I too am a cemetary person, I spend a freakish amount of time at Emily Dickinson's grave. Richard Marsh
ReplyDeleteHaven't visited a cemetery for ages; maybe I should?
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