Graveyard

Time's flowing tributary; the future changes the past. Our burial cortege concludes its course at the graveyard. Falling leaves collapse, crafting new fates; feel the weight of dust. Some are wagered in a pitcher with burnt bones and ash charred We tread the twisting trails, yet in the end, all come this way. The funeral site was bleak and hushed with death and decay. Where death reigns and no one recalls who under earth lay. I find peace in the abyss, grasp sky, and haze through the grave. The woods are gray guiding the cars and assuaging the crave Nothing appears in the night when it is too brief to save. With outworn obelisk, only the moss knows the rent draft You have rote recall for this wreath, yet no time in this yard. Trusting that I would rest here, bereft of any rich ray. Leaving behind all my hard-gained assets by a name waive. 1st Place contest winner Written: February 22, 2023 Writing Challenge - G Words - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD