Fifty Years
At the ancient burying-ground,
Spirits overhead
Hover happily around
Gardens of the dead.
Nightly living lovers come
Quiet to that place,
All the phantoms flutter from
There without a trace.
Lovers take and use the night,
Gone before the dawn
Leaves a mourning-wreath of light
On the marbled lawn.
Lovers leave before the black
Sky returns to blue:
Fifty years, and they’ll be back
There as spirits too.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment