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POEM: Churchyard

mossy Mary stands in the churchyard

seemingly having seen eons go by

an ancient watcher, still and silent

can’t you see searching  in her eye?


but what truths find light in old churchyards

what story can a pack of absences tell?

— the cold, quiet  of a forsaken church

a dumb bell, and a graveyard smell



1 Comment

  1. Love the detail used 😊


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