Silent
Soil
#127
November
7,
1997
I
am
a
lost
ledger
of
life
Through
a
shadow
Feeble
hands
of
little
men
have
etched
my
epitaph
upon
sandy
pillars
A
lifetime
of
memories
captured
quiet
Unmovable
I
hear
your
tears
in
the
shapes
of
prayers
I
remain
still
as
our
wedding
portrait
Stretched
out
underneath
strong
oak
Bony
fingers
tickle
the
ground
near
me
They
wince
and
snap
I
grow
even
colder
I
have
become
an
eclipse
of
your
beaming
My
reality
occludes
the
cooling
dusk
sun
from
setting
in
your
eyes
Sunburned
leaves
wander
and
writhe
at
my
feet
and
gather
a
web
of
time
beneath
my
brow
My
green
flowing
gown
has
turned
sandpaper
drab
Last
night
I
felt
knee
prints
digging
into
my
silent
soil
Your
ungroomed
fingernails
traced
my
name
then
gracefully
withdrew
While
I
pondered
Why
do
you
not
weep
for
the
living?