A winter night – the gates are locked
To guard the dead's serene repose.
But Nature's life abounds within
That snow-borne tracks clearly disclose.
Against this snow-blanched winter scene
The tombstones stand in stark relief
With chiseled epitaphs displayed
To honor those who lie beneath.
But it is Nature's poetry
Transcribed by tiny feet in snow
That do provide a depth of soul
That words in stone cannot bestow.
And I shall lie content to know
That squirrels, scribbling in the snow,
Are writing epitaphs for me
Upon my grave that all can see.
And though the sun and wind and rain
Erase them time and time again,
There'll be new poets to the site
To honor me by what they write.
2000
(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)
© Doris Potter
There is some comfort in that picture. Life goes on.
ReplyDeleteI agree Anvilcloud.
DeleteThat's rather evocative. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you Flighty.
DeleteThat's a beautiful idea you've captured here.
ReplyDeleteThank you messymimi.
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