quiet words

i went home
to visit my father’s grave
to say hello and chat a while.

quiet words,
carefully chosen,
softly spoken. 

i choked

as i looked at
his grave, cuddled with flowers
left by my younger sister.

one in a line of neat plots.
one in a sea of black marble.

the cemetery,
ringed with woodland walks 
for lovers and thinkers
and those with heavy hearts.

hearts broken by parting.

as i left,
i walked awkwardly past
others with more recent grief.
tending earth mounds,
freshly dug and
waiting for their stone.

and those spirits
long in the ground,
with sadness healed through time,
wait for someone to come
and say hello and chat a while.

quiet words,
carefully chosen.
softly spoken.