through a colonnade we see
how green the ivy and the ferns
grow in this shaded avenue
where trees have seeded over years
to shelter mourners left in tears
vines entwine where lichen clings
to monuments of chiseled stone
angels bow their heads in sadness
others lift their wings in gladness
influence of far off Egypt
Redgrave, Marx and Mahler’s daughter
Grecian urns or Celtic crosses
all the faiths have suffered losses
magnifique this ornate splendour
only for the richest people
yet the dead i sense some linger
and their shadows point a finger
carvings mingle in with flora
little cherubs trumpet loudly
Gothic style on family tombs
while gloom descends on catacombs
and someone has tiptoed over
Pandora’s grave
time to leave