Shish!

Shish, don’t wake the dead! The sculpted angel holds Her finger to her lips and Whispers.............. Lichens on her limbs attest To the time she has spent Tender breathing silence. About the gravestone Graver still, little trinkets Rest; gifts that stay Tranquil . The silent scene is set But in my mind I hear The sods of earth upturned By the diggers spade. I hear the sculptors Chisel chip marble Away to reveal the Angel’s skin . I hear taught ropes Slide beneath the casket and I hear the sobs of loved Ones in the breeze. .........................Shish!