vase of flowers graces grave
mom dad side by side
in this vast manicured glen
lawn and paved, curved roads
it’s April and a north wind
needles our bodies standing
looking down at the question
framed by grass and stone
but here they are and are not
together in this not life
not death
granite and flowers mark place
in this unlikely Eden
and we, hunched together against
numbing cold say lives well-lived
as if in answer
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