Cemetery Walk [Free Verse]

And in the end,
the dead are still
and the graveyard's quiet
is not so bad.

The monuments weather;
in due time,
letters become less crisp
dates become debatable.

A clean read means
there maybe someone 
left to mourn.

And fresh flowers mean that someone
has tracked their melancholy 
through the place,
and the air feels heavier,
and my mind feels heavier.

And I read names:
familiar & not,
popular & not.

I read names to distract me
from thoughts of my own dead --
to avoid tracking my own melancholy
through the place.

For, you see,
I've brought no flowers.

Stormy Shore [Common Meter]

Sitting on cold, volcanic rock
upon a stormy shore,
Watching waves crash, hearing naught but
wind, and crying for more
in a scream that cannot be heard
over nature's harsh din
as I feel the snap of gusty 
wind, through cloth so thin
that it can't hold back nature's force
to draw the heat from bone,
and, feeling under this black sky,
I am now all alone.