Web Cemetery

Old worn and broken
Words carved in stone
Martins music like words spoken
In a group yet still alone

Graves of silent slumber
A cemetery guards ones laid to rest
We can not help but sit in wonder
What these folks were like prior death

The wind catches dried leaves
A whisper all of its own
Birds sing to the world in trees
Old graves are loved ones homes

Our visit here was observed
So much to stop and think about
Many untold stories no longer heard
Learning about history throughout




© Rain Storm