A Cemetery Visit

Autumn leaves scatter and pile
Around leaning stones
Etched in dimming names
Above their dusty bones.

Secreted in boxes
Remembered as common lives
Covered up in years
And the memory of their prize.

Here lie moldering bodies
From which sprang
Working generations
Whose hammers on anvils rang.

Exploding in brilliant color
See them in wildflowers
Expressions of souls
‘Neath their oaken bowers.

See their warm smiles
In the ache of setting suns
In the blaze of seasons
Where the cool brook runs.

Hear their happy music
Whisper in branches above
In breathless silence comes
The cooing of a dove.

Their ageless wisdom
Rises like morning mist
Embraced in common memory
Like lovers we have kissed.

We feel their struggles
Joys and bitter sorrow
Slowing our pace here
And allow eternity to roll.

Leave the old gate open
When you turn to go.
Let there be a chance here
For history to stroll.