Sunday, March 18, 2012

graveyards

The whole world is a graveyard

Entombed layers scattered in sides of mountains

From pristine air to heavy sea

Each last breath wraps around

Shrouded bones



We kick dust

Or dissolve in murky mud

Littering ourselves indiscriminately


Green life reaches to the sun

Death compresses itself to the center of the earth





© carol voccia 2008 all rights reserved

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