A Walk Among Gravestones

You used to walk among gravestones With your small yellow pad Taking notes... Wondering... Who they were... What their lives had been... Whom they left behind... As you gathered fodder for your poems.

"Bury me in a country graveyard," you said, "And write these words upon my stone:
'A man who had three great sons and a wonderful wife who Brought him love And taught him truth and beauty'"

Now that you are gone... I wonder who will wander by one day...ages hence Walking among gravestones With his small yellow pad Taking notes... Wondering... Who you were... What your life had been... Whom you left behind... As he gathers fodder for his poems?

by Rhonda Powell Copyright 1998


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