The cemetery is aliveA Poem by Amy Michelle MosierThe cemetery is alive With freshly cut mums and poinsettias. Gathering people make it even more abuzz. A crisp wind blows Over each receding blade of grass - Slowly turning them the color of brass. A handful of tombstones - Sun-dappled underneath oak trees - Are scratched by fallen amber leaves. The crucifixion mound Overlooking it inspires the Christmas spirit Within the hearts of those who visit.
© 2023 Amy Michelle Mosier |
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