MUSIC AND POETRY

GRAVEYARD

Life comes to a close
at night as a shovel digs
deep into the earth –
lifting dirt to make a
place for you to live.

At night - I hear a
shovel as sound surrounds
me – my body shivers,
and sweat pours from skin –
moistens a night gown. . .

It is clear now – as if night
were day – a hole deep
a man jumps into its’ emptiness
another man tosses a different
shovel which levels the earth.

The land, flat – sides high.
Bats fly from tree to tree -
ghosts surround men
digging a space for another
friend.

I glance toward the bench
near the oldest part of the
graveyard. And you sit with
your legs crossed, and boots
up to your knees – your hair
has grown - your nails
painted perfectly.

Are you wondering who is
next - or did you know first?

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved