15 October 2009

cemetery walking

I fear my poetry muscles are very flabby indeed, but I couldn't resist LL's invitation to write about a moment where I experienced slowing.

watching angelAlign Center

Cemetery walking,
I come to chase after autumn hues:
Bursts of crimson and gold
Flaming forth from tree branches
That will soon be stripped
Of their fiery filigree;
Falling amber and emerald
That make a carpet,
Downy and bejeweled for my feet.

This is not death, I think
But transition:
The movement from one way of being alive
To another.
This thought will comfort me
In the coming months of freezing dark;
I will patch together a warm cloak from these hues
And the memory of them.

I happen upon her innocently,

I stand and wait.
Feet rooted into the patch of grass
Over the bones and dust she guards,
I stare:
Hoping for revelation
To come blazing from the stony angel-eyes
That stand watch over the grave underneath.

She tells me nothing,
So I click the camera
And click again.
A few more.

Part, lips!
Tell me your secret!
I beg
From silent mouth,
From likewise stony eyes.

I watch.
I wait.

Riveted she remains, and unflinching:
Listening in silence for the voice of God,
And waiting for the resurrection
Of the dead.


  1. I'm glad you flexed those poetry muscles ... this is beautiful.

  2. Wow. That's beautiful, Kirst. I like how you pointed out that this is not death but transition from one way of living to another. I also like how you felt she stood silent, listening for the voice of God and awaiting the resurrection of the dead. Beautiful.

  3. Love this . . . as I read, I also wanted to hear her voice!

  4. This phrase...

    "I will patch together a warm cloak from these hues
    And the memory of them."

    A poem in itself. Lovely.

    Thanks for joining the 'slowing' celebration!

  5. Thank you for this inspiring view of autumn--transition. It is all transition, change, goodbye and hello. Beautiful.

  6. Remarkable. Thank you! My mom loved to walk through old cemeteries and snap photos. I understand now why.