I like graveyards, having played amongst one as a kid. a the back of
the church where I played, there was a pitch black lead bath of water
for flowers.
Graves aren't that bad, just a bit wet and smelling of clay.
Yarra, though, rolls off the tongue and around my mouth in a beautiful
way. thanks for this.
Roger
On Wed, Oct 1, 2008 at 7:08 AM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Cemetery Road
>
>
> Off Yarra Street, turn right
> (mind the oncoming traffic)
>
> and the first three or four houses,
> new, on the left all look desirable:
>
> fresh, elegant, at home already
> among the sun-glinting eucalypts.
>
> The second is still for sale -
> couldn't we downsize here?
>
> Further from town, fewer rooms,
> affordable, livable. Roses; quiet.
>
> But who wants to live on Cemetery Road?
> After the houses there's that open space,
>
> parcelled out in graves and grave-sites.
> Not far to go when the time comes.
>
> The ultimate in downsizing.
> Observe the waiting plastic frames:
>
> piled, each a little larger than a grave:
> once the grave is dug you don't want it filling with rain.
>
> I sense my pallbearers' black shoes, polished
> that morning, sinking in soft clay at my grave's edge,
>
> the awkwardness with ropes, the tilting
> and lowering, settling down there, now
>
> and forever. The muddied shoes step back
> discreetly. Rose petals flutter on my lid.
>
> Wednesday 1 October 2008
>
> Max Richards, Doncaster, Victoria
>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au
>
--
My Stuff: http://www.badstep.net/
"I began to warm and chill
to objects and their fields"
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
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