Child Cemetery: Poetry of Jeffrey Merk
The bonfire’s lit with a cold flame,
I’m alone with clay and ashes,
Though the blaze rises no higher.
Oh, can you hear the crackling?
By an old house at the bottom,
Of an old hill sits an old-man,
Drawing in the dirt pictogram,
In the hands of the sun and moon.
Only the smoke rises skyward,
He holds back his mind upon Earth.
Two burning sticks above him lean,
On one another while they burn.
__________
Copyright 2023 Jeffrey Merk
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