Cemetery

Hey guys-
So about once a season-ish I go outside and sit and write a poem without my computer. It's something I've been doing since last year and an exercise whose results I generally like. My free-verse poem this winter was written thus, as was another poem I wrote in the fall that I haven't posted up here but maybe will if I feel particularly autumnal. Which probably won't happen until... autumn.

BUT ANYWAY, since the weather's been nice, I've revived my walk through Dartmouth's very own cemetery in order to get back to the dorm. It's faster, prettier, and quieter than going other ways, so I figure why not. I often eat lunch there on a little ledge in a clearing, so today I decided that was where I was going to write this poem. Yay, dead people. Yay, inspiration.

Eternal sight of
Silent growing in
The cemetery. Flight of
Frost, green flowing in
Like the spring vacuum
Needs more assurance
That what grows on the back tomb
Will have element servants.

Perpetual waxing, waning,
Cool colors to fiery shades
To nothing, cold sustaining
Until the last winter fades.
The people also stayed the same.
They slept as the trees do,
But did nothing when May came.
Even tombstone color flees too.

They can watch the stages
Forever, and stay objective.
I am privy to its rages
But at least they share their perspective.
I sit, for now's eternity, here.
And bask in what they can feel.
Things here remain, so sincere.
I almost think change is not real.

Unpublished Material, ©2011 Cali Digre