in an unremembered graveyard
of the written word
another old poem
has been buried

carried there
by childhood images
of ink black waxen forms
distorted to absurdity
by the polished hand
of death

to lie
beneath the statue
of its headstone
with the ashes
and the skeletal remains
of ancient and forgotten
aspirations

tins and tyres
and broken glass
newspapers tattered
fanned to glow and flame
drift dust
and rubbish smoke
across the brittle leaves
and dry dead grass

unfocussed
by the shimmering veil
of midday haze
the mourning eyes
are stung and blurred
to guilty tears
ephemeral figures
have witnessed the interment
of what was immaculate
in life contrived
as any metered rhyme



for 'Bill'   1982nev2006