Cemetery

I went to the graveyard
-only visiting today

simple burials - there
was no sense of doom

with a picnic, it would
have been nice to stay

in the autumn sunshine
of the outdoor room

away from the village
and petty backbiting

I really felt my
flagging spirits rise

some of us are not
born for fighting;

but young soldiers
still think killing wise;

it was good to sense
myself part of the plan

not better than a bird
or stoat, or fox

remembering the times
I happily ran

with no need to think,
or look at clocks;

I’m worried fragile
bones might go soon

to the lonely place
beyond us all

where so many leaves
are brittle, strewn

and so many more
are still to fall