Snow hides trenches between angels& rectangle stones like open books
lain flat. I pull off my gloves
to snapshot praying hands,
war medals & graduation tassels
of sons & daughters
dear Angelicas and Joses
who have graduated into
a new year of snow
as vigilant mothers
walk the new afternoon
where blue paint shimmers
in sunlight on wooden crosses
& the lavender tulips
will never fade
No comments:
Post a Comment