We drop their bones and ashes into the ground
'neath the lush green grass.
Time passes imperseptibly.Quietly
tired gravestones lean
some support each other
some relent and just tumble
as if the gravestones that once remembered those now departed - have themselves forgotten
like the lettering once etched across their faces,
now forgotten too
slowly being wiped clean by the hand of the unforgiving wind and rain,
forgetting - like human memories tend to.
Who brings the flowers
trims grass and wipes the slate headstones clean,
and who simply comes no more?
For who could forget a loved one,
one who once walked with them
one who once belonged?
...sleep well you forgotten souls
