Today's poem is by Ron Houchin
Every Day of the Dead
An old church house abandoned long enough
has constantly dark windows. Two
tree limbs stretch across
its walklike the arms of one who fell
long ago. Back garden vines vein
over a skeletal trellis.
A cemetery of leaning stones
cools before and after rain. Fence corners
overgrown with blue-gray, even on sunny days,
are harder to remember at night.
Shadows of shadows on humps of earth,
portalswe come to touch
the world we may believe in,
as the long-gone may come to a ray
of evening sun against a mausoleum wall,
for the memory
of memory and warmth
of body we think they must believe in.
Copyright © 2013 Ron Houchin All rights reserved
from The Man Who Saws Us in Half
Louisiana State Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!
Web Weekly Features
About Verse Daily
Submit to Verse Daily
Copyright © 2002-2013 Verse Daily
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2002-2013 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved