In the ground row by row stand headstones and crosses some with names and couples and heroes, some plots of people we don’t know. Adults and children who will never grow but who’s memories will never go. Young and old death makes no distinction all of them laid in the cold.
People come and pay their respects leaving flowers, windmills and candles, for some a visit is too much to handle.
The lawn is kept so neat and tight, lights shimmer in the dark of the night. Each grave tells a story of darkness and light holding back the tears is a bit of a fight but you have to keep the grave looking just right.
You talk to your loved one but they don’t respond, just leave you with memories now they are gone. Although they are dead and have gone away visions of better days’ flicker through your head, replaying scenes of happiness and dread and all those words never said.
Peaceful and tranquil the graveyard becomes, full of sisters and brothers; dads and mothers. Quiet contemplation maybe a prayer anything to make you feel they are still there.