Autumn graveyard

The tallest tree stands, already bare,
branches snagging cottony clouds
above manicured emerald lawns,
leaf-littered between the ranks of stone.

The sky above holds mysteries
deeper than the sightless creatures
dining on jettisoned plastic
in the dark ocean trench.

Underground, roots stretch, spread
through rich, worm-filled loam,
welcoming and embracing
new inhabitants in silk-lined beds.

All we can see, all we know
of earth, our temporary home,
is a surface of tombs and trees
with glimpses far-off clouds.

This ekphrastic poem was inspired by Steven S. Wallace’s photo on the Skeptic’s Kaddish.


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