Visiting Ancestors – John Hurley

Rusty gate resists but then creaks open
Its peaceful here ,no traffic den
I’m puzzled by the tall stone walls
Surely, no one will break in

Angel wings spread across the skyline
Saviours outstretched hands,with rusty nails
Guard the masses, all here are equal
Whether from manor house or jails

My old neighbours,are all around me
Awaiting for the judgement day
Their times on earth all clearly printed
In my head, they never went away

Why do some have larger headstones?
While others lay neath a simple cross
Is it a show of their importance?
Or to denote a bigger loss?

Time now,to visit my ancestors
They are near the gate , close to the wall
All their lives they were time conscious
They are now convenient for Gabrials call

There is lichen growth,their names have faded
Wood pigeons coo,as sadness grips
My eyes sting,the tears flow freely
Turning to salt on my trembling lips

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Filed under New Poetry, Poetry

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