Compositions of the Dead

The cemetery was rather Asymmetrical. It sloped easterly, Uneven, not neat rows Of the dead. Marked and unmarked Some tombs, sarcophaguses Some graves marble laid Shining black. And then, there were plain, cemented ones. Carved crosses adorned some Some had plain solid C-R-O-S-S. Withered wreaths and bouquets lay around. It was a winter morning Mist still slept among the graves. Slipping over the wall I wandered among the dead Looking for an angle A frame to compose. The large one before me Had a plain blank marble headstone I looked at it closely And saw- My face. Shocked, I turned around to find – All had risen from the graves Legs crossed, arms crossed They posed – Beside me, the gravediggers waited For my final click.