we passed a cemetery
on the bus,
so i pulled the chord
and got off at the next stop -
i did this on a whim, spur of the moment
i immediately ran to the cemetery!

i had to escape the mundane ritualistic routine of life,
so i went to the cemetery

alas, i could not read the stones
for time had faded them all,
or so thought i
until i found the stone
of poor old emily bakerson

emily bakerson, what has become of you?
you died a century before my birth,
yet at your death,
you were but the age i now am

i reach out to hold your hand
through time,
but am restricted to one time,
one place, one body
and to walk the earth thus

you are alone, emily
yet so am i, in a way peculiar to myself


Poetry by Thomas Perdue The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 231 times
Written on 2016-11-27 at 10:00

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I like this a lot. Clarity, verbal economy: considerable virtues! I have a micro-qualm about the two adjectives modifying "routine" in line 7: the noun itself might suffice to convey "mundane" and "ritualistic."

Other than that, very much a thumbs-up and a bravo! (And yes, I like the fact that you name the deceased, Emily Bakerson. It's what US poet laureate Ted Kooser would call an authenticating detail.)