On the way memories return,
the burden becomes a release,
a time to be close again
a time to...
rejoice
in their memories.

Next plot over,
to the right...

No one's come to change her flowers,
maybe there's no one left,
maybe there's no one who cares.

Two plots to the right,
one down...

Anybody home?
No tombstone to tell us who you were,
no flowers to tell us
if anyone's there.

Flowers,
flowers,
flowers please.

Three plots down
and to the right...

Maybe finally someone who cares,
does he grieve?
No,
just there to change the flowers.

Just seven plots up...

Does she care?
She's overburdened with flowers.
All she's doing
is changing the flowers...

(Flowers,
look at all the flowers.
Covering,
hovering over
the stones.
The grey stones of silence.
The stones of silence.)


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