Elegy for the Dead, Whom I Love
       

The cemetery walls in disrepair,

              some markers even toppled by the roving boys

who come at night to damage what they can,

              as if to leave some wreckage in their wake.

And it's not right to do this to the dead;

not even stupid idleness should lead them here.

              Yet they have come and gone; the day will soon

forget their names; the dead will bear it all

              and won't complain, their headstones knocked away.

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Copyright © 2012 Bruce Weigl All rights reserved
from The Abundance of Nothing
Triquarterly Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission