I went back once
\nto that place of solitary stones.
\nIt is a city of little boxes and violets.
\nCars wind in and out of gravel lanes,
\nand always
\nthere is a mound of flowers,
\ngladiolus, lilies, roses.
\nIt is a smell too sweet to be pleasant.
\nAn omen of someone\u2019s leaving.
\nA mystery without inscription.
\nA stone will be raised later,
\nand someone will carry a single flower,
\nor a cloth of tears,
\nand stop for a moment
\nto listen to the traffic from the road.<\/p>\n
But that will come later,
\nperhaps years,
\nperhaps never.
\nNo one comes for pleasure.
\nNo one comes for silence.
\nIt is a city without noise.
\nThe sound of the world outside
\nis the light above a tree,
\na touch of fading warmth,
\na memory stopped by time,
\na piece of the heart forever severed.<\/p>\n
I read the inscription on the stone
\nby her grave.
\nI\u2019ve forgotten what it said,
\nsomething that tried to appease our grief,
\nchase away the fog.
\nI wonder why we do this to ourselves?
\nBuild a sarcophagus of grief.
\nPut wrought iron fences around graveyards.
\nPretend we have no guilt for dying.<\/p>\n
She is a hurt wind,
\na broken laugh,
\na barren feather,
\nput here as if her soul
\nis now a box of decayed ash,
\nher memory,
\nthe heavy odor of death.
\nLet’s dig all these places up!
\nLet’s scatter the stones.
\nLet’s go to the top of a hill
\nand look into the distance,
\nand say,
\nthat is where they went,
\nfaster than light,
\nalive and well,
\ninto the future,
\ninto forever,
\nlaughing,
\nwithout pain,
\nflying.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I went back once to that place of solitary stones. It is a city of little boxes and violets. Cars wind in and out of…<\/p>\n