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
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