A Woodlawn Grave

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  • Sadness
    • ta
    • I have been very ill. But I'm back.

    A Woodlawn Grave

    A Woodlawn Grave

    Taronis--03

     

    Deep green in summer’s mist

    Solitary granite, raindrop kissed

    Soon to be touched in amber twist

    Under that tree lie the missed

     

    Lonely among piers of stone

    Standing, golden, cold, alone

    Quiet wood, safe from the drone

    Lonely and green and sodden

     

    Summer’s breeze by this place

    Reality we fear to face

    On row on row in this space

    Granite markers to we all race

     

    Quiet slumber a long rich nap

    Damp and brown this life’s cap

    Walking close to Death’s grip

    I recoil as the trees drip

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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