Driving By The Boneyard Poem by Hugh Cobb
Driving By The Boneyard
Driving by a boneyard
in January, I see winter sky
naked trees &
bare stones, row on row
marking time
marking lives...
Cold air
the breath of graves
carries voices of the dead:
They cry out in silence,
like Hamlet's father's ghost,
'Remember me.'
yet all ultimately forgotten.
Long after bones have
returned to dust &
mute stones crumbled by aeons
They still utter their voiceless cry,
'Remember! '
& no one hears
no one cares
& still seasons change
sun rises & sets:
grasses grown long
wave mournfully
with winter's breeze
obscuring the ruined stones
& only ghosts' ghosts can hear
the plaintive cry,
'Remember me' silently mouthed
by dry dust & scattered molecules
for all that lives must die
& all mankind
of great or humble birth
must submit to the catholic
& inevitable workings of the earth.
(Copyright 1/25/2006)
Much emotion about mortality, and the souls desire to be heard even in our death. I am always in awe how the world goes on though missing such an important addition. Great poem and clear expression on the experience and thoughts of the author.
I love the imagery - there is nothing so forlorn as a graveyard in winter. -chuck
This is a winter painting composed with a grim tenderness that is very touching. There is a graveyard high on a hill above my house where a lady poet lies buried beneath an epitaph which she composed herself. I wish she could know that she is an inspiration to my poetry. Perhaps she does. Fine poem. Regards, Sandra Fowler
Hugh, Layer upon layer building to a sobering crescendo. Beautifully executed. Gregory
A very moving poem here Hugh, beautifully constructed, thought provoking too. Love Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 2:58:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
birth and death the great theme which haunts the heart and always the human yearning not death today comes anyway the hurt, the loss the immense stones to mark life gone crushing, utterly crushing until the deep immersion happens and a happiness then to be here for awhile as flesh then starlight or a falling leaf in place of human breath and in the end all One without blemish a wonderful poem