Cemetery

There is more life in this place of death

than on the teeming street outside.

Small children on their tricycles

ride happily beyond the sign, ‘No cycling’

for, really, who will be disturbed?

Certainly not the dead, and not the trees

which prosper, unmolested. People

walk the paths all day, a shortcut

from their lives or to their livelihoods.

A cat in search of fun will often

swagger in to sniff out river rats,

complacent mice or some unwary bird.

Roses cheer the statuary splendour

of rich men’s pompous tombs. Tourists

on a history trail are keen to hear

the tales of famous residents and smile

at the more bizarre accounts. Here’s a man

whose leg was buried first. He lived

a long life till he joined it, and here now lies

the legendary champ whose glove adorned

the grave until some villain stole it. There

are all the brave young Frenchies who were drowned

in World War One and never made it home.

And on St Patrick’s Day, a crowd will gather

to sing, ‘Oh Danny Boy’ by the memorial

to those who fled the Famine and sought refuge

among their Celtic brothers. It’s rare

that you’ll hear weeping inside the gates

except when cat brings proudly

his booty home.

First published in Reach

 

 

 

 

 

 

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One thought on “Cemetery

  1. Hi Eleanor Many thanks for these emails. One very talented lady! In recovery now from CB as he is I bet, by the time his CB solo short tour ends!! Have a lovely Sunday, just going to take Toby and Babe for a stroll on the beach! When it stops raining!! lol Px

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

    Like

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