Grave The Trees Mourned. Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Grave The Trees Mourned.
Grave the trees mourned.
White the wind sang.
Dark along the steep
And weary cemetery road.
And it was night.
The graves sat still.
The dark played round
The marbles chill
And the small plaques.
Grave the trees mourned.
White the wind sang.
Dark along the steep
And weary cemetery road.
And it was night.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: dark,wind
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8/19/2026 3:45:08 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
