Wrote this poem in image and words yesterday while strolling through Medina’s Old Towne Cemetery off public square, posting each section to Twitter as it was composed. Here’s the poem in its entirety for those who missed it in the moment of its creation:
In the waning light, ruminations on the brevity of form.
Shadows cast upon the dappled grass. Not who we are, but what is seen.
Life has but one end, and that’s the grave. Every flower blooms, then fades.
Yet our spirit endures. In our words. In our dreams.
And as the sun sets on one day, elsewhere it dawns upon the next.
— M. Belanger