After supper, when the air was a Bit cooler, I walked up the road to The little cemetery. It was once surrounded by farm fields, but Now it's nestled in an urban setting. I hope no one damages the old stone markers, Many no longer legible. I come here when I need some Solitude, When I know I need to cry. It takes only a few steps around the graves reading The epitaphs to get me started. I sit on a low slab and weep. I feel desolate, Overcome with sadness, and, yet, somehow Comforted to be sobbing in a place Where others have wept too. Even though I'm alone I feel strangely Understood, surrounded by fellow Phantom mourners. I ask God why He didn't take me first even Though I know in my heart that neither Min nor Jack could have managed as Well as I. In two days I will observe the anniversary of Min's death. Perhaps his home going is what compelled me To visit the grave yard today. The reasons aren't clear to me. But after I dry my eyes and Walk back home, And write this poem I feel better. |