Treasure Island

Jim Milks

(2/7/1966 / Boston)

Revelation


In an ancient graveyard I spend my hours
Through the broken gates swaying
And the stone angel forever praying
There amongst the splintered stones and dying flowers

I cry for the names washed away by the tears
In the cold, chilled to the bone,
I stand alone, a witness to the years.

I stand, as stone and
Slowly begin to understand,
As long as one person, one guardian stands
No one is forgotten none are left alone

© JPM 12/1/09 - 12/29/09

Submitted: Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Edited: Tuesday, December 29, 2009

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