a quiet walk

a quiet walk  In the graveyard, I walked  I didn't take the dog in case she smelt bones noticed even in death  there are three classes  I was drawn to the famous lies because their place is more airy big stones, with swada words in gold, nice flowers and well-kept lawn the dead middle-class people's graves were nice to in black marble I did come across a grave that told us  the dead had been a chief engineer he might have been a cruel person  and would, if he could, be pleased that his title mattered for his family  The poor graves tucked in a corner  overgrown grass hiding names, thistle too had stings They had something in common that made them equal, death silence