Poem: Information Please

Information Please

The graveyard glistens in the February snow,
almost inviting, calling
as if to say,

"Come,
it is peaceful here, and time
has no power."

And you stand at the gate, wishing
it would speak more clearly,
and tell you not if there was another side,
but what was there

and would the choirs sing Lou Reed,
while the sweet smell of onions on the grill
fill the crystal air of heaven? Or

would it be an empty place,
a false light, leading
to darkness more eternal than fear.

You shudder. The snow, you notice is melting.
You turn from the gateway, to live,
at least for today.

=================

Yesterday, on my way home from Church, I passed this graveyard near West Hebron, New York and I passed it, then turned back when I caught a glimpse of something: The graveyard had an information box!

Somehow, I HAD to write a poem to that!

Tom

PS - as always you can click on the picture to get a larger version.