Poem for Saturday, October 13, 2012

Epitaph

Below

the dates etched in limestone, the implications
in between: people waking from dreams, red salt
fresh on tongues. One savior biding time, counting
the cherubs. Another giving the death nod
behind the concrete. Wordless.

Someone sticking a flag in the cosmos.
Someone breaking a heart in an equinox.

Below them, those words holding hostage
some legacy, a single accomplishment before
eyes became drapes
half-drawn.