Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Winded in the cemetery

the tree surrendered -
a layer
above the resting souls.
Broken but unbowed
the aged tree
maintains the guard;
a centenarian sentry
in the quiet cemetery.
The symmetry of its loss:
the natural paring
of dead wood.
But in the night
did it make any sound
in its falling
on dead ears.

No comments: