Cemetery Nature

 How any grass has grown here,

defying stillness, puzzles.

The birds dive, as if to warn,

unflappable. Their space.


Hoopoes, swallows own the air

swing low, go close

a breath away, dive you

back to the primal past, excavate

your fears.




Green reeds silently whistle-

line the ghostly Eridanos.


Yet still.


Demeter smiles,


seeing red,

red anemones popping up

fraternising with Canna lilies

orange high,


chamomile scenting grasses.


One thought on “Cemetery Nature

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