Silk Flowers

A grave poem

One bright, undercast day,

I strode into the cemetery.

Did so until side-by-side

With a praying-angel-statue.

Below the bright, undercast day,

the clean epitaph read:

"I SHALL NOT WANT"

Kneeling was in order, I assumed

an identical palm-to-palm position.

 

1^st Day:

Knees sinking in the earth

to maintain my shoulders erect.

 

2^nd Day:

 Ignored the furious birds' chirping.

 Remained piously rigid.

 

5^th Day:

Let the trees gossip,

as the weather may have changed.

 

10^th Day:

Barely noticed the Sherman tank--

lawnmower in the background.

 

20^th Day:

Crowd of ghosts surrounded me,

or a strong breeze blew through.

 

40^th Day: Someone left lovely,

perfumed Silk Flowers on my lap.

 

41^st Day:

I would've picked them up,

but I was busy praying.

 

50^th Day:

My stone- pose shattered;

mortality exposed by a sudden sneeze.

 

One bright, undercast day,

the praying-angel-statue

cracked a smile.

All the long-shadows

urged me to leave that place.

A deep sigh as I rose,

disengaged from the adhering soil.

 

Perhaps you're grinning in your grave,

Mr. M. Johansen.

One last look at the inscription:

"I SHALL NOT WANT"

Only stilled saints and angels

can match such a claim.

 

For kneel as I might

Try as I must

Pray as I may

I WILL ALWAYS WANT

Reviews

[deeps]

This is amazing, I really enjoyed this write.
Love how you have it all broke down.
Very nicely done!