Beyond the Hall Light

I. At Bredinsburg Road Cemetery the fence pillars stand arched on each side where the empty space of shoulder bone meets shoulder bone. II. I tread lightly here, tombstones white chipped shale scattered and tilted askew flat like deli plates tossed wilily nigh lengthwise into the ground. III. Some, bear children’s names angel’s feathers rubbed off by the wind’s thin unmeaning elbows, huddle like baby teeth dappled in the shadows of wealthy marble monuments, plaques that say even in death we are above you. IV. Beneath my dampened sneakers moss the consistency of marshmallow squishes silently, a whimper of earth. V. Behind me faint foot fall like the murmur of an infant paddle through the thick of dead leaves.