(Upon visiting an old New England cemetery)
.
The grave stones jut out of the rotted forest floor
like crooked teeth.
.
Some retain elegant lines, but most, moss stained,
are cracked and chipped, have spit
the pieces to the weeds
where streaks of purple and yellow wildflowers grow
to lay like necklaces and jewels
.
upon the buried breath of this great corpse–
.
In the still summer heat.
In this small tangled clearing.
On the side of this steep hill.
Penultimate 