deepundergroundpoetry.com
a field and nothing more
sparsely placed flowers and wreaths
on a field where the deceased lie in peace
you may know someone there if I said where
otherwise you or I really wouldn't care
there's no secret to be shared from them
only in that roots and stems shall sprawl
against a facade of what houses the odd end
of our then existences
eventually
we'll be rendered bones in vessels,
ashes in vases,
nestled in satin, encased in marble,
blessed and buried in a hurry
and, in time, be just a field
and nothing more
where there is more to be found
than just death
life goes on
in the trees that surround the stones
in the grass that grows upon the plots
in the birds and bees that flutter about
and in the traffic that passes the gates
life goes on
no matter who lives or dies
on a field where the deceased lie in peace
you may know someone there if I said where
otherwise you or I really wouldn't care
there's no secret to be shared from them
only in that roots and stems shall sprawl
against a facade of what houses the odd end
of our then existences
eventually
we'll be rendered bones in vessels,
ashes in vases,
nestled in satin, encased in marble,
blessed and buried in a hurry
and, in time, be just a field
and nothing more
where there is more to be found
than just death
life goes on
in the trees that surround the stones
in the grass that grows upon the plots
in the birds and bees that flutter about
and in the traffic that passes the gates
life goes on
no matter who lives or dies
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