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Gravestones

Rating: 4.9

On Christmas morning we visit the marked stones,
The grass, the pots of fresh Paradise Birds,
Magnolias, Christmas trees,
And we visit the names.

We visit the rows on rows of marks;
The marks they left behind, the marks
That mark their singular day of birth,
And death.

We visit all who lie there,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
William Jackson 15 July 2006

How you add meaning to the lives of those who are now gone. This is a very thoughtful poem. And to visit the gravesites on Christmas day is quite sobering. Great poem.

1 0 Reply

Nice little poem masiela dear, it makes u think.

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