Blog ten: A poem – Slabs

Graveyards love ’em or hate ’em loads of us end up in them! I won’t, it is the flames for me and then scattered on the rhubarb.

Anyway – they can be intriguing, interesting and full of history (and bones). I had a wander through the village yard at the weekend and dug these words up from somewhere.

Slabs

The ground that they share

is common, not exclusive.

Passing by they no longer tread lightly.

Each journey completed here

followed a singular and different pathway,

all brought to this point by others.

 

At a brief distance

their appearance is varied.

From pristine & neat,

to ragamuffin.

See uncared for (once loved) standing with

falling over (sombre, not drunk), alongside

upright & proper.

 

All resting with broad eyes closed.

Looking up

toward sun, wistfully watching

star, gazing beyond satellites,

perhaps casting an ambitious glance

in search of a heaven?

 

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