Ode to the antecedent deceased I trampled over

Death robs us of our identity. Walking down the rows of grave stones In that small cemetery outside of Decatur I was struck by the fuzziness of the marble. The names were growing faint… Step between the graves- Don’t step on their heads. File upon file of dead inhabitants; You must remember where to keep your feet Don’t step near the grave stone, That’s the … Continue reading Ode to the antecedent deceased I trampled over