Among The Lilies Poem by David Wood

The wind gallops like a riderless horse
Over the graves of voices no longer
Heard. Where mourners lay flowers
For the dead who can no longer smell
Such a soft delicate fragrance.

The funeral director asked if I was
Well as if they were looking for new
Business. We are all eventually cut
Down as an axe strikes a tree no longer
Wanted. The noise echoing throughout

The wood where tears well up in the sap
In a last final cry. Even the crows perched
Looked on keeping their respect, their tree
Was young and tall. Funerals are always
Sad, particularly so just before Christmas.

Now they rest among the lilies that will
Restore the innocence of that sweet soul.
They take their rest, as all that is left are
The memories that will one day fade, until
A photo is accidentally found in a draw.