The bones just lie there
Turning to soil,
Strangers wander slightly dazed
And light punctures the yew trees
As wild geese honk
Through the clean blue sky,
Tickling the clouds
And heading home.
The church bells ring
And a blinding sunset hovers
Gently melting in the distance,
We drive off into dusk,
Leave gaps for occasional thoughts
And dream of those long gone,
The whispering many,
The plentiful quiet,
And those we forget
In the storms.
Dunstan Carter : Poetry 