We walked among the Dead today
We walked side by side
Before, beyond, behind, with broom in hand, we walked where They still lie
We came upon the Warrior Dead, those Who held the Line
We came upon the Straw-Death Dead, who peacefully reside
Yet came we upon the Head of Graves, of this great and powerful host
What gave us pause and tears to shed were the youngest that hurt her most
She could not say why she sobbed, only that she must go
And in her face, as I kept pace, I saw the place of fear and woe
It has been said that tears are gifts unto the Dead
Each drop acknowledges the life from the mortal coil it shed
We must each take our rest deep within the Earth
I can only hope I have been an Ancestor of worth
(I began writing this September 8, 2014 and finally found the words to finish it.)
