Dirt and Time

Dirt and Time
These head stones
More than five times any age Are not yet tired
Tilted by time
They reach out
To be held

Conversations linger Husband & wife Dimly lit
Like dust in the air Slowly settling Warmed by
Port & tea
Before the last day’s
Sweet nothings
“I love you ..... good night, dear” “Sweet dreams & seeyouinthemorning” Lover’s legs not found

Over there and just stones away
A parent strains toward child Enfolded in warm yet tattered linens Of many nights
Whispering and trading lines Of a well told & sleepy story Now completed
Through dirt and time

A passer-by
Hears the echo’s mourn
A thousand mourns
Though not a relative among them.

These are not my people.
Mine are on the other side
And up north
Companions to the Prairie
Where the winds blow long and hot And then,
Forever cold and dark.

Mark Mularz