Low fences of concrete and iron
in varying degrees of sturdiness or collapse,
delineate gravesites and family plots
of a long-established and
long-neglected pioneer cemetery.
Whether they are meant to keep the living out,
or the spirits in, I’m not sure.
They seem inadequate for either task.
As a child I wandered this place of the dead,
on Sundays, after I had escaped the
torturously long church service,
and before my parents finished
drinking burnt coffee and eating stale cookies
and were finally ready to take me home.
Ever careful to avoid the mounds and divots
that belied a coffin underneath,
my imagination jumped at the chance
to interpret any slight cold breeze
that made the hanging moss sway, and
any crooked dead branch that
pointed at me like a bony accusatory finger,
as some displaced spirit,
disgruntled at my presence there.
Was it disrespectful to enter the gates
of those family plots since I did not
belong to the family?
Was I overstepping the boundaries
of the long-departed when I
stepped over the fences
that parceled out their final resting places?
I guess I won’t find out the rules
for graveyard boundary etiquette
until I depart to my own final resting place.
If you come to my gravesite
to pay your respects,
look for a bony tree-branch finger
beckoning you to draw near,
and wait for that cold breath of air to
whisper in your ear.
I will give you the answers
about the boundaries of the dead.
And then I will cross that final boundary,
where long-winded sermons,
burnt coffee, and stale cookies
can haunt me no more.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Boundaries
Nice interpretation of this week’s photo challenge.
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Thank you.
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You’re welcome
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I don’t imagine the dead are bothered by your breaching the boundaries of their graves…
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Well, I never heard any of them complain, so I suppose that was a good sign. Thanks for commenting.
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Very powerful!
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Thank you. And thanks for commenting.
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Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge-Boundaries | WoollyMuses
Perfect interpretation of the boundary concept…especially for this time of year.
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I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right. Maybe I should shoot for a month-long scarefest.
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You have an eye for it
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That looks like the charleston Magnolia Cemetery, is it? If so, it’s quite the photographers dream, isn’t it!?
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This is on the Oregon coast. I would love to see the Magnolia Cemetery.
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That last chapter gave me goosebumps
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I actually like it so much that I’m just reading it over and over again
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LOL! Do you like cemeteries, or just like getting goosebumps? Or maybe both!
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Hahaha! 🙂 I just liked the sadness in it, or the premature nostalgia. Nothing creepy, I assure you!!! ;D
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Premature nostalgia… interesting concept.
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Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for commenting.
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