There is silence
in the cemetery, half a world away,
Forgotten graves lay unattended.
Darkness gorges on decay.
Here and now meets then.
To stand beside an unmarked space
No memory as death intended
being-ness without a trace.
The keeper has the records hand
inscribed in antique scrawl
in a little house, with iron gates
He guards the names of all
One resting place a legacy, of
sudden shock of stolen breath
Beneath the ground stirs memory,
of long ago, an early death.
One day someone may ask the way
to claim the plot – erect a marker.
Shout, that they knew of that man,
To all who may come after.
Copyright ©Roan Mar.2009
Ann, I used to find graveyards fascinating when I was younger, in fact I still do. You brought back the memories of the silence, the stirring, the waiting, with this wonderful poem. I love it. Irene
As the other writers have said, I too feel the silence of death in this poem. The melancholy is so well crafted and resonates in my heart. 10 Karin Anderson
There is a bleakness about your delivery which intensifies the angst that underpins the piece. Some lines are particularly distinctive - 'Beingness without a trace', and 'sudden shock of stolen breath'. Methinks there is a personal dimension to this fine elegy. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
I can feel and hear the silence in the cemetery by reading this poem. Very well written. Regards Naseer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice idea, beautiful composition.