The silence- broken only
by the sound of the shovels
dividing the packed earth-
overwhelms the men with
cigarettes hanging limp
from sealed lips.
They shut the eyes
of the corpse-
pallid and gray-
before laying him
in a grave.
Not to be saved
From weather or bugs
Decomposition and silence
But to silence the
Memories replaying in
Their dispassionate minds
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you may want to work on your ending, Emily. overall, an engraving write. keep on SusxGLx