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Flowers for the dead
by Dan Harden
Posted: 11/3/99
A young man replaced by a gravestone...
...the memories dying with this generation.
The hidden calendar of numbered days
walking at risk through open range
the entity of death with no soul to speak
of the wind carries the pitiful sobs of another mother
whose seed has fallen on shallow soil
"Can you spare a soul?"
says the reaper.
"Can you spare some flesh?"
say the vermin
"Can you spare any dust?"
says the earth
cries ripped from throats.
Tears force their way through hard stares.
Curses are pushed into the air.
Anger creeps in and spreads as warmth.
Hatred comforts and tells lies at the same time.
Bitterness unpacks it's things and makes itself at home.
And what of our future?
"The same, eventually."
By Dan the Man.
John 14:6
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