Veterans' Cemetery

The ceremonies of the day have ceased, Abandoned to the ragged crow's parade. The flags unravel in the caterpillar's feast. The wreaths collapse onto the stones they shade. How quietly doves gather by the gate Like souls who have no heaven and no hell. The patient grass reclaims its lost estate Where one stone angel stands as sentinel. The voices whispering in the burning leaves, Faint and inhuman, what can they desire When every season feeds upon the past, And summer's green ignites the autumn's fire? The afternoon's a single thread of light Sewn through the tatters of a leafless willow, As one by one the branches fade from sight, And time curls up like paper turning yellow.