the visit

the toes of my shoes grow wet with dew as i make my way across the green to visit

faded flowers linger nearby, their naked stems standing stiff and still, like watchmen amid the carved stones

above the ashes, between the stones, the fresh turned earth and grassy mounds…comforters for the dead…

below, the bits of clay that God fashioned into those we loved and cherished, who cherished us…now empty husks awaiting their rising…lie deep in the cool, damp earth


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