staying right on the edge
where life and death play
exchange gifts
and walk away.

It’s sad to see neglect here
the grave stone tattered
scrapped and forgotten-
forgetting death,
what could be worse
than not considering
rotting bones
and corpses-
that suit he always loved
and the ring on his hand-
the one you loved.

But it’s all gone now-
packed away in 6 foot soil
and pine –
Always a pine box,

Maybe pine wood
cries best
when packed against flesh.

4 Jan 09