Abney Park Cemetery

random clusters of recollection.
haphazard graves rubbed
clean of words,

celtic knot crosses
split in one hundred
shards of disrupted

memory, or shiny fresh
tombstones recently
flowered. five elders clutch

a tattered map
plod through brambles.
daisies push up

from a broken sarcophagus
we are all laughing.

Comments

cool. it kind of works backwards, too...one of my favorite poetic manipulations...
Patty said…
I really the images, and the wonderful sounds-the resonant r's' and hissing esses. I especially like the incongruity and surprise of the last line.

Thank you for posting this!

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