Michael Buhagiar

In The Ebor Cemetery
From zero to zero an ice wind sweeps
As dark chords close the movement of day,
And the sky a mist of moisture weeps
On the loved one beached in a wave-lashed bay.
A two-barred fence defines the square
And gums on every side surround,
Here in the heart of the country where
There comes no faintest human sound.