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michaelboyAbove an open valley, knowing always to the place where I can’t change what is or bring back a single event to re-live exactly and erase a single tear, whether spoken or not.
In the inexorable recreation of life, inexactly I am determined to honor these soft places where horses and men have failed. But I will not attempt to do what they could not.
Yet surely I will line the path with ground-pine leaves of oak, ever-blooming iris and daffodil
All of which are much older and wiser than my life and all I could ever hope to be and simply knowing this is touching and what a cemetery is to me.
*
In the inexorable recreation of life, inexactly I am determined to honor these soft places where horses and men have failed. But I will not attempt to do what they could not.
Yet surely I will line the path with ground-pine leaves of oak, ever-blooming iris and daffodil
All of which are much older and wiser than my life and all I could ever hope to be and simply knowing this is touching and what a cemetery is to me.
*
