Sunny evening, 6 June 2018

Friday, 2 November 2012

The old cemetery

A rusty gate
from the sandy dunes
A wall of stone
on all four sides

A rock-strewn hillside
The sea incessantly
speaks from the shore

no rocks
outside the walls
just flower-clad sands

Rolling away
in every direction
down to the ocean
their ancient roadway

Living from the bounty
of the ever-present sea
it would exact its price
giving change - wreckage on the shore

Living in penury
but happily
demure hamlets
strung out to the north

Poor ground prompted
a move inland for summer
gathering fuel
before the storms came

Unknown were the riches
in money and goods
Riches in happiness and
the strength of kinship

Only a rock
remains within walls
a mark of ending
to remember their days

Nine thousand you'll find
on that rock-strewn hillside
No carved tombstone
Just a rock

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