Stone Days

Count the dead
and mark their dates,
rub chalk on marble
and names appear
until the next rain.

Tread on memories
which bend with grass,
bleed green
on shoes,
indecipherable scuffs
layered over each other.

Carry them
between the dead
and to the living.
None is able
to interpret,
so tongues cease.

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23 thoughts on “Stone Days

  1. that opening stanza is really interesting….a tally of the dead in chalk that disappear in the rain rather than etched as most stones in mine seem…nice cadence in this one…

  2. i love cemeteries and i love the rubbing on chalk on marble…chalk is something so warm..and i much like the contrast here to the cold and dead marble…bringing a bit of the past alive again

  3. Yes, the dead are eloquent, in their way, yet there’s no talking between us. This has an especially eerie ring to me because the tone is so calm, the structure so lacking in melodrama. And of course, as always, never a word too many or too few.

  4. enjoyed this very much like the play of words you use in reference to how people treat & tread the cemeteries the many meanings that are conversation not necessary using our vocals but the tread and pacing the touching of gravestones .. etc. is what i felt expressed in this .. b :)

  5. No answers here, tongues of living and dead cease, questions arise. Only diligent research can explicate what lies between the names and the dates – or imagination woven with history to consider how short the human life, how unique each experience. Excellent work, Matt.

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