The Pasts Cemetery

Leaning against ancient  
contorted , eroded ,
stilletto spiked railings
of  prior centuries ,
I stare agape
at the tombstones of my life
which escaped .

Back then
I heard the decree
we had to flee.

Where are their ghosts
do they have wealth
would they toast my health .

There's no inscriptions
of a name , a time or place
just my nostalgia reinventing  
a face .

Theres an owl
mimicking a flute
he is so astute .

He is telling me to return
to reduce the daze
I need to alter the page
I wonder what
they look like now
and if and how
they have aged .

I wonder if they all exist
I hope they do
I hope they persist.

Anyway
if i saw them tomorrow
they probably wouldn't know
me by now
anyhow.