we explore a disused cemetery
off an old dirt road
in the middle of the forest
four graves are
clearly outlined
by protruding burial mounds
several others sink down
into rectangular pits of decay
slanted crosses slice
into granite headstones
you step back
to line up a shot
and your heel
makes a hollow
wooden THUNK
you tap again
and arch your eyebrow
– a casket
thinly shrouded
by soil
i step swiftly
over several MCMAHONS
to more solid ground
while you snap a photo
a moth
unsteadily
flutters
against cold
raindrops
and i shiver
not from fear of
falling into old graves
but in reverence
of death’s
advancing
tread
