Bill Knott

(1940 - 2014 / Carson City, Michigan)

Cemetery - Poem by Bill Knott

Who whispers here is forgotten.

Saliva's emptiest fruit
adorns the stones,
words ripening your mouth
to a spoilation
of silence.

Who speaks here
reads a text that downloads
the screen of his fingernail,
through which nothing's visible
as glass is.

For the memorial
we must kneel
to pick each flower
from amongst its modifiers:
but to do that
one needs a hand bared
of all uses, of all trades:
as ours is not.

Comments about Cemetery by Bill Knott

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (1/13/2018 1:59:00 PM)

    Such a well-penned poem by Bill Knott👍👍👍 (Report) Reply

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  • (1/13/2018 1:18:00 PM)

    An interesting poem well done. (Report) Reply

  • (1/13/2018 2:48:00 AM)

    Oh this is as majestic, stately and dignified as the stirring and moving emotionally..........
    thanks for sharing
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/29/2016 6:39:00 PM)

    (Cemetery by Bill Knott.) **Of doleful expressions. (Report) Reply

  • (7/9/2013 9:35:00 PM)

    I'm a little bit lost in the cemetary, but the last stanza has me lingering as I read it again and again. (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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Read poems about / on: flower, silence

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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