Read Poems by John Fleming

  

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There Was Nobody

There was nobody who could come and weep at his graveside.

So we invited the misty mountain, the gusting moorland

And meandering little river where he had sat down and fished;

But, they were all previously engaged. still, we went anyway.

Someone had to lower the coffin...and songs refuse to sing

If there is nobody to listen.

Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2025