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Death Attendant

After reflections on his dear dead gone
The grave attendant sang no more
Lingering sad by the hole he dug
A hollow reminder of those who expired                         
He set aside his spade to cry

Laid his head on the molding tombstone
So much like him in his morbid mood 
Cold, wet, exposed to marble death to rest

Calm resignation fills in long hours
Humanity, lunacy, transforms the doomed 
Sinks to new depths as he laughs at the moon 
Under its light no names etched on the tombs

Last of the family members buried beneath the lawn
No new markers, burial rites or songs for them
Church plots are fewer since the congregation dwindled 
Religion and sinners have all died off
Withered too soon he figured  
In the sign of the cross the old man and grave become one and the same

Gravity holds him in its embrace un-blessed
No one left to fill in the holes for future guests
Who will replace him after he breaks the boundary
Or lead the way down to the concrete crypt

He turns up right into the night
Takes a deep breath with all his might
Before he takes his life
Light pure perplexity dawns with enlightenment
But came too late.  He's dead
One more death attendant left unattended

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