Sunday, 22 April 2018

My walk each day

There's a cemetery near by
I don't intend to lie there yet
But I walk through there oftentimes
Groundsmen mowing lawns make it neat
Bells ring, birds sing, I sit on a seat

There are interments on sad days
People gathered round dressed in black
Faces glum with words spoken soft
Caskets are slowly lowered in
Or tiny box with child therein

Ropes withdrawn let the sleeping lie
Mourners quietly wander off
Grief unpacked until they do find
That their lives have changed with this loss
The raging sea of their minds does toss

I continue on my walk each day
Blowing a kiss to my loves plaque
Plod my way back to my small flat
Return to the desert of normal life
Remembering my dear darling wife

Image found at


  1. Beautiful and endearing, thank you.

  2. My father has now sold his rural home - wisely, since there is no medical service in the area. But the place where his parents and two of his brothers were buried were a short walk away from his former home and I used to wonder how often he went to visit and what he thought when he went. I know every time I stayed at my father's house, the cemetery was a stopping place on my daily walks.