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Ode to Cemeteries
August 7, 2010
Oh, cemetery,
your ghostly winds whisper
in a child's voice,
beckoning me inside.
A breeze
blows my hair
around my face;
sends chills that make
my whole body shiver.
Strangely, I adore
your lonely, damp ground.
Trees cast shadows
that wrap around stones
like a mother's loving arms.
In this place,
I feel secure;
it's almost like a home.
I walk among
your broken stones.
I wander and weave
through your solemn rows,
despite withered flowers,
tattered flags,
somehow I see
this place is beautiful;
unusual,
like a creature from
deep beneath the sea.
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