The cold stones
warmed by the sun
the lichen and moss
calling me to touch
the masks of death
the weeping willows,
the words of the faithful
written into the stones
Entering the grounds
hallowed by the centuries
the lives of so many
cataloged, laid down
the markers of the people
long dead and buried
but calling to us
to walk righteously
2/9/2010
gravestones in Portsmouth, NH
and on Martha’s Vineyard, MA
Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010
Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
The Cold Stones
Labels:
cold,
death,
decay,
face,
Faith,
family nature,
God,
imagination,
Martha’s Vineyard,
memories,
Poetry Where You Live,
Portsmouth NH,
Raymond A. Foss,
saints,
senses,
sight,
touch
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