Friday, 20 July 2012

The Graveyard

Theres a graveyard in my mind and I can see my own grave, on a blue skied day with cotton white clouds and an angry, glaring sun
People pass by that grave
They speak to each other, turn and wilt under the heat of the horizon and the reality of death
I can see the fear in their eyes, feel it churning in their hearts as they build fences around what they say and believe together with what they tell the people around them
As I write, I hope to stay in this vision long enough to see a shadow emerge over my grave
No flowers, no tears
No spoken words
Just a person, remembering

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