Among The Anonymous Poem by Pasquale DiMeola

The path along the drowsy woods
Untrodden forlorn years
Conceal the calm splendour of goods
To bring about some tears

Sweet overgrowth besides the trail
The swaying of the bramble
Massive timbers launch leaves to sail
As squirrels did bounce and ramble

A vagabond without a home
Happen upon the scene
Strong legs and trains set him to roam
For long forgotten dreams

Full circle did his life complete
Some two and sixty years
He stood once more where younger feet
Had strength of grizzly bears

With graying beard and shaky knees
He grasped around a stone
Which leaned against an acorn tree
Pushed it aside and moaned

His hawkbill dug into the dirt
It clinked a metal chest
The contents held his own net worth
Of all he cherished best

Scorched photos of his wife and son
Hard gin from days of nipping
A rusty cold single shotgun
Faded paper clippings

The blaze consumed his whole life's dream
As ashes blew astray
What family...what love...it seemed
Had smouldered in the gray

The fire never singed his hair
Yet long ago he died
The memory once kept so dear
Full circle was his guide

From gin to gun his body flung
He shot himself for keeps
And still the skeleton is snug
Nearby the acorn trees

The walking dead among us all
With vacant eyes of shock
Will roam the world from fall to fall
And one day push that rock.