Driving by a boneyard
in January, I see winter sky
naked trees &
bare stones, row on row
marking time
marking lives...

Cold air
the breath of graves
carries voices of the dead:
They cry out in silence,
like Hamlet's father's ghost,
'Remember me.'
yet all ultimately forgotten.

Long after bones have
returned to dust &
mute stones crumbled by aeons
They still utter their voiceless cry,
'Remember! '
& no one hears
no one cares

& still seasons change
sun rises & sets:
grasses grown long
wave mournfully
with winter's breeze
obscuring the ruined stones

& only ghosts' ghosts can hear
the plaintive cry,
'Remember me' silently mouthed
by dry dust & scattered molecules
for all that lives must die
& all mankind
of great or humble birth
must submit to the catholic
& inevitable workings of the earth.

(Copyright 1/25/2006)

Hugh Cobb

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/driving-by-the-boneyard/