Oh the silence the Dead speak!
This Villa of headstones
Weeps dust back into the Earth
The empty grave plots we save for
To fill up with our withering selves
Are as patient and still
As the death that will claim us.
Frozen in preflight
Have comforting smiles for the guilty griever
If you listen quietly
You can almost hear their Funeral Hymn
Of Beauty and Decay.
From my journal Villa of Headstones @1998