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We do not play on Graves

467

We do not play on Graves—
Because there isn't Room—
Besides—it isn't even—it slants
And People come—

And put a Flower on it—
And hang their faces so—
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop—
And crush our pretty play—

And so we move as far
As Enemies—away—
Just looking round to see how far
It is—Occasionally—

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Comments

  • yer
    November 22, 2006

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    this poem I remember reading a long time ago, it took me back to my early childhood when we used to play in the local church graveyard.It captures the atmosphere precisely when others (adults) would disturb our play of innocence.Memory is conjoined and entwined with Emily's poem.