Wednesday, June 29, 2011

While Holding My Breath and Driving Past a Cemetery

The idea
of my death
does not bother me.

Not as much as the empty fields
behind the mossy tombstones.

Where the grass is kept
neatly cut, and the
small gatherings of dandelions
seem to be the last signs of life.

*Check out other great poets and poems at poets united*

1 comment:

  1. Powerful post; haunting n' sad! The loneliness is so profound with your imagery~ Well Done