No Rest


Stepping lightly o’er the mound
Trying to avoid the sounds
Of rubber boots that slosh through mud
And flower pots that make a thud
Filled with water up to brim
For my red geraniums
That make a dismal scene seem bright
But nothing ever sets things right
Within a place that bears such loss
Filled with the stench of earth and moss
Along with old decaying leaves
And the dead beneath the eaves
Of weathered mausoleum stone
Where I dare never walk alone
But meekly wander o’er the ground
Tentatively without a sound
As if to listen for a word
But not a word nor breath is heard
From beneath the hardened clay
No requiem from far away
Echoes through the murky air
Although I’ve felt it here somewhere
Between the shadow and the soul
That briefly touches to console
As I recumbent to the earth
So uncertain of my worth
Dare to remove this mortal stain
Plead for respite from my pain

©Kay Salady


About Kay Salady

I write about the greatest force on earth that, I believe, lives on forever and surpasses all else. "All your poems read like I am watching an artist use words instead of colours full of feeling." ~Anon.

Posted on February 3, 2017, in dark poetry, Kay Salady Poetry, poetry, the poetry of kay salady, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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