At the Cemetery
Cloud cover from horizon to horizon
like an inverted topographical
map identical in scale
to what it models—
gray mountain ranges darkening
as they rise downward,
the crease of valleys
thinning upward
into paler grays, thinning and thickening
along lines that shift and merge
like a map in motion,
a phantasmal
time lapse of tectonic plates, of every
upsurge and subduction
going nowhere on
and on on
courses intricately fated, haphazardly
minute and massive while
below them sprays of
fresh-cut flowers
invisibly decay and leave
brief trails of sweetness
all along each newly
chiseled name.
Plume: Issue #41 November 2014