the wind wasn't as cold
as perhaps it should have been
and the grass seemed just
a little too green
in contrast to the grey skies above
and the damp darkness of the lifeless trees
which hadn't quite begun to bloom again.
we walked slowly
with a somber weariness
through the not-quite-cold-enough morning
as mist stung our cheeks
but not our gloved hands.
the ground was muddy
and covered with the long dead leaves
that had remained through winter,
wet, decaying corpses of the past.
we walked by countless rows of cold, grey stone
shaped like crosses and angels and saints
and saw the names of friends from long ago.
one stone that sat beneath a great oak tree,
a simple marble block as old as time itself,
so weathered as to be nearly illegible,
read Truth.
no flowers or wreaths had been offered
to its occupant in all its lonely existence.
next we climbed a hill devoid of trees
where resided two ancient stones
side by side in the grass and mud.
both were as old as Rome
but the left was well cared for
by a thousand zealous men,
read Psaul
who shortly before his own death
had murdered the right
whose stone now stood decrepit,
broken, mangled, and spat upon
she used to be beautiful
Rea
son
on the other side of the hill
came we to the brother I never knew,
a tiny infant's grave
amidst a thousand like it.
died two years later, Faith,
when I was born.
I had almost known her,
but she'd refused to kiss
or fuck unholy I
and so I never mourned her loss
and walked on by the seraph statue
with alibaster skin.
when next I stopped it was before the Virgin
marking the ground for Love
who lies next to Joy;
I still remember how oft I tasted her lips
and held her by my side
as we danced beneath the starlight.
Sympahty, overcome with grief
at the loss of her sister,
had slit her wrists and bled for half a year
before she finally died.
the sun slowly broke the clouds and mist
as we approached our destination,
a fresh grave of the newly buried.
there was a sense of peace at seeing it,
like perhaps we were finally done,
no more battles could we lose,
there were only battles won.
I smiled, then, and knelt
and cursed Him to suffer
all the pain He'd dealt me,
and I galnced once more at His stone,
unadorned save His name, and left,
with never a tear nor flower drop'd.
HWHY

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
Copyright © 2024 Gary Hoffmann