tombstones
dream of the dead
that rest here
caught in summer
lost in time
the ghost of a
shadow
shadows of ghosts
that come & go
amongst the sunshine
& leaves
big yew tree
reaching down its roots
clutching at memories.
I love old gravestones, for someone, somewhere and at some time, loved this person enough to want them to be remembered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a lovely, haunting picture of a quiet graveyard in the shade of great yew trees - it's hard not to remember the roots of trees in graveyards may be directly in touch with the remains of those buried there. You manage to convey sadness and regret for the dead without becoming trite or maudlin. I like this poem very much.