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Sam Collins's Grave
The land of the dead resides high on the hill
Looking down to the land of the living far below
The shivers don’t begin to shoot down your spine until
Your soul reaches the pinnacle of Cemetery Road where the cold winds blow
I’ve never seen or heard of any of these corpses buried below my feet
Yet these skeletal strangers felt like neighbors and friends to me
Rows upon rows of faceless names etched on ancient stones made of marble and concrete
Shedding a tear while silently staring at Sam Collins’s solemn grave among the overgrowth and debris
The grass has grown out of where his bones are lain
And has taken root deep, deep underground
Memories of the past flow down the hill and are washed away by the rain
The crow’s craven cry in the gray sky is the only distinct sound
And Mother Nature will bury us all below our stone
Recollections and anecdotes are all that will remain
And Father Time will turn us all into dust and dinner and bone
Mother Nature will bring us all back home…again
very nice...good ending...imagery cool
Memories of the past flow down the hill and are washed away by the rain
The meter and rhytym seems off a bit until read outloud....good work
clay