We Were
Within a colonization of tombstones.
Verdant rites of spring,
Arms of earth, embrace parched epitaphs,
to buried thirst.
Where once was barefoot glee, of those now interred.
The sun breaks upon monuments to the pouring sky.
Nesting larks,
busy,
building a home upon a mourning angels crown.
Sentinel Gargoyle,
gazing on the grave diggers glistening back,
Murmurs ‘Quasimodo ‘
Monuments hold high to the pouring sky.
Stone angels plead with sorrowful eyes.
A faded marker with cryptic memory
In shadows of embracing cherubs.
To the fifth element are hands reaching up.
Gloried in granite and limestone,
Those who once were imbued
with abundant life,
In final words embraced by stone and moss.
‘You Reap What You Sow.’
Within the still and stale air of crypt
are whisperings…..
‘We Were’
