My son for a lot reasons never really faced his grandmothers death, until he visited her Columbarium.
Supplants her torpid form
Charcoal speckled engrave
Dates her post mortem
Wind whispers, do you hear?
Spoken with authority
Hello my dear
Vocal even in her sanctuary
Columbarium door glistens
With an image of still waters
The valley of deaths shadow requiem
Sings loudly as silent patters
While mortal grandson tears
Pleads goodbye in arrears
09/12/2008
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Read 527 times
Written on 2011-11-29 at 20:24
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Columbarium
Polished granite faceSupplants her torpid form
Charcoal speckled engrave
Dates her post mortem
Wind whispers, do you hear?
Spoken with authority
Hello my dear
Vocal even in her sanctuary
Columbarium door glistens
With an image of still waters
The valley of deaths shadow requiem
Sings loudly as silent patters
While mortal grandson tears
Pleads goodbye in arrears
09/12/2008
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Read 527 times
Written on 2011-11-29 at 20:24
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
