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You come across it unexpectedly
like death itself, alongside the same stretch
of road that houses architecturally
adorn, and set out amid trees to match,
the cemetery: each headstone posing stiff
with dignity; but in the eye’s sweep, one
of countless digits, dwarfed in scale, as if
the measure of the dead; and passing on,
project the evening of the living, such
as we, as they once did, who now have lost,
enjoy; who, in adjacent state, as much
aspire to, are made to; though at what cost
to our credulity who bury them
forever, who rise in memoriam. |
