Trespassing Walls
stones are all that's left,
calloused and sweat piled pride
-labors of life and death,
foundations of shelter and
boundaries of field and farm
that disappear into a
relentless forest.
lost cemeteries hide there
-tears and prayers haunt,
long dried and silent
yet lingering somewhere near;
while...the walls tilt and tumble
begging to go where
they once were interred.
the scribbled gray markers
of the long fallen - crumble,
now more a home to moss
than memories.
forest and stone and creature,
in the end, all to dust,
a bed to birth each once again...
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