Voices
He stood 'neath wispy cypress trees
And pondered ancient Spanish moss
He read tombstones from long ago
Carefully etched with love and loss
He heard voices though lone he stood
Among the cold tombs of the dead
Softly they spoke as if they knew
That only one heard what they said
He searched the grounds for the speaker
But he listened and sought in vain
Then he heard the voices clearly
"We must go - you may come again."
Then he saw the newly turned sod
With the shovels still where they lay
He read the stone and it was his
He had died only yesterday
12-4-18
For contest Voices for Silent One
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