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
Sunday, March 18, 2012
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