Flowers on Forgotten Graves,

I think of all the forgotten names
The lonely hearts left cold in the rain
slowly, time dulls the memories, photos come down
from mantle piece, stories become lost to reverie

Who’s left to say your names, when the ones
who knew have gone away?
I think of the ones I knew, and for their sake,
I will never forget your name.

I’ll take a moment to share the news, to remind you
of nature’s hues. The taste of fresh honey in
spring time, the smell of cinnamon in autumn
we can talk of sweet oblivion, pretense that all
things don’t have to end.
Maybe we can hold hands, as we accompany
the shadows on the edge of infinite.

I hope, one day, to place a flower on each forgotten grave
To spend even one hour, to recall your power, listen
to your story. “Beloved wife, mother” “Son seeking glory”
“Dearest Father, gone too soon”.
Whatever the reason, you’ll still have a season.
A tear shed for lives cut short, or a smile for the
ones who stayed awhile.
Maybe one day we’ll meet beside the grave stone, to piece together your cherished memories. For you to
live on, the dead are not forgotten.