Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
Stones of the graveyard
Once lived in the hills yonder
Where the owls hooted
at night
Still, you can hear their longing
For that place they once called home
Oh, why did they take
All those stones from the mountain
Making it a platte
of water
Only to rest around death
Leaving souls to wonder why
Could they not see
That which is natural stone
Had a place to be
Called away from nature’s home
Crumbling for the last of life
Only death could find
A better way to live than this
Ashes forth and gone
Leaving the life instead for
Many birds and many songs
…..
This is in response to the Living Poetry December Visual Poetry Prompt
Perhaps you would like to join in.
