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1. LIFE IN THE CEMETERY
8. The Childrens' Lawn Cemetery
we have companion plaques, positioned close together, prized roses are chosen to rest above our childhood eyes, our cremated remains are interred into our hearts, we provide the society with our glorious living memorials, lives like the surface of headstones & cold monuments, like me he has a careful edge, a considerate cautiousness, in the cemetery of this life, there is the mystery beneath the surface, miles of subterranean mystery, his body wastes away beneath his coat, i waste away beneath my skin, we walk hand in hand, in the end & near the beginning, burning like cold suns, the cemeteries inside us, the dreams, the dead children that we carry, we walk along the avenue of dust pink roses, by the sentimental poetry of a cemetery, by the promise that god will link the broken chain, or that the seasons of gardens always in bloom, will commemorate the passing of love from our hearts, we walk by the opening of headstone messages to lazy gums & australian skies in eucalyptus avenue, after years of brushing shoulders, we see each other for the first time & we are filled with this strange calm, the cemetery brings on an attitude of quietness inside us, as cemeteries will still everything, so that the grave diggers & the birds appear more animated, we are leaving our old lives, we are living uncertainly, minute by minute, we are like wind, brushing lightly across the downward lawn, the gardeners & insects accept our gentle departure, as we move through them, we have stepped up out of our old remains, provoked by each other into movement, we are leaving the garden of no distant place, thank you for the light touch of your hand, your silent company, for walking with me |
