Grave Poem


It is much harder

Than it looks in the movies,


When they drive out to a spot beyond

The last motel in town to a thinning

Wood that's known for it, and in

The car headlights

Whack some peripheral character,

Then set to work with soil and shovel.


In fact, a pic axe is required at first

Because the ground is slower

To give than I was led to believe.

The earth resists; she requires purpose

And will not easily give up her secrets,

Will not easily take back this body.

There is too much time to think,


To think about mud and suchlike,

To think about many graves trampled

Unknowingly. I forget to look up, but when I do

I see it's daylight still, not like in the films.

In the films they dig at night, but


There is plenty of day stretching low

Across the crest of the hill.

There is also breath curling

white like milk in front of me.


This one, too, will

Not be the last, I'm sure.

David N Rose