The Old Western Burial Ground
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A macabre garden
rank with smell of green moss.
Silent mouths murmur nothing
as visitors snap and click
awed in reverence of the raven poet.
The Old Western Burial Ground
Greene and Fayette Streets in Baltimore
a rotten Poe rests here
his beloved decayed Virginia.
Bone to bones on bones timber in mute darkness.
Nissans and GMC trucks
vibrate their eternal slumber
lying beneath city stories of noise
like fossils from the carriage age.
Does any life still whimper in the din?
Can we say it is a lovely graveyard?
Do we admire sentinels to the mournful torture of fate
pain, dying, life, calling them
historic to cherish forever?
Forever is each night
as nearby
homeless lie sleeping
on sidewalks.
2/28/18
Copyright © Janis Thompson | Year Posted 2018
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