The monuments devoutly stand
upon that brooding gated hill,
an honor guard morosely grand,
their stony faces waiting still.
As raucous ravens congregate
to form an inauspicious flock,
they also sit and calmly wait
beside that stark forbidding rock.
I sympathize with their suspense,
made leery by the bleak unknown,
but now I rest outside the fence
no longer scared to be alone.
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ReplyDeleteoops, hit the wrong button
ReplyDeleteNo problem. What I said was
ReplyDeleteThis is a most beautiful poem. Though I often have no idea what you're talking about I always love the way you say it.
Thanks Shirley,
ReplyDeleteRight beside where I work is a very large hill with a cemetary on top, and invariably a large contingent of crows in the trees.
Thanks and take care,
Bob