Quiet as a dark night,

Ravishing flowers I sight,

Flatly and harmlessly lying on top of each other,

Mournfully looking,

As I joylessly walk,

No talk,

The tombstone appears sad,

Its sole companion; a dead lad.

I gingerly move around,

Glancing, gazing, glimpsing,

The lawns around look at me strangely,

Like I’m an intruder.

My presence makes them stare,

Do I look like I could scare?

Worry not,

Innocuous me is no foe, whisper I,

I came to see my crony,

A departed soul, a darling to me,

The lawns look on, more at ease now,

I advance my steps round and round,

Saying an orison for my departed one.

He’s gone, but I feel the presence of his ghost.

By The Graveside

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