Friday, November 9, 2012

Every season feeds upon the past. -Gioia

Veterans’ Cemetery

The ceremonies of the day have ceased,
Abandoned to the ragged crow’s parade.
The flags unravel in the caterpillar’s feast.
The wreaths collapse onto the stones they shade.

How quietly doves gather by the gate
Like souls who have no heaven and no hell.
The patient grass reclaims its lost estate
Where one stone angel stands as sentinel.

The voices whispering in the burning leaves,
Faint and inhuman, what can they desire
When every season feeds upon the past,
And summer’s green ignites the autumn’s fire?

The afternoon’s a single thread of light
Sewn through the tatters of a leafless willow,
As one by one the branches fade from sight,
And time curls up like paper turning yellow.

-- Dana Gioia

Golden Gate National Cemetery


Thistle Cove Farm said...

I think it should be mandatory that our elected "officials" should ALL have served, or are serving, in the military!
Yeah. When pigs fly, eh?

Pom Pom said...

That's a good poem! I like the dove part.
This year I really thought about Veteran's Day and the school kids did, too.