In Memoriam

 

The gravestones in this place are wet with tears

Of children, wives and husbands who have stood

Beside dark holes that swallow up their fears

Replacing ice water where once flowed blood.

November skies are grey and hold no lights,

The flowers flattened in a winter gale

That whips away dark thoughts the widow fights

To keep hidden behind her mourning veil.

 

The winter storm washes away the sins

Of those who stand here slowly getting wet

And afterwards sink one too may gins

As they try to reconcile and forget

The brevity of life and how it ends

For all of us - remembered by our friends.

 

 

picture by Richard Nixon (Rich Pics)