Keith O.J. Hunt Poet Free verse

A Winter Scene

Down in the white-black of the cemetery,

   deep little shadowed stones

   peep from the frozen white-winter

   tears,

Old souls who once laughed, cried 

   and lived as much as the living world

   now ---- for something

Peering down where my grandpa lay,

    buried neath one of those shadowed stones;

I have his war medals on the wall,

   and father's too,

For their blood they ask me 

   to try a little harder ----

   I shall try,

   as I peer down upon the cemetery

   where grandpa lay,

   buried in a winter memory

   (God rest his soul)

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John Beam March 18, 2014 at 8:13 PM Very nice write and a good tribute.

Andrea Dietrich March 18, 2014 at 6:47 PM wow, this is just so poignant. A great poem!!

Kim Van Breda March 18, 2014 at 1:34 PM Hi Keith.. visiting your posts formthe first time, and really happy to have done so. This piece is so vivid in description, I felt I was there. Awesome write. I love cemeteries... not in a morbid way, but in a historic sense of lives that were lived out on this earth and made their mark in one way or another. Xx~Xx Keith O.J. Hunt March 18, 2014 at 1:47 PM Thank you Kim, yes I had this experience today, peering down from my apartment balcony into Pinecrest Cemetery, where my grandfather's plot is, I do not know which one --- (something on my to-do list and find it) --- and yes there is a historic quality to the poem.