Potent little poem...I wonder what kind of vows are exchanged in a cemetery...who is "friend"...good questions to ponder
A chapter in my life ... memories become poetry ... :)
Whitman wrote a lot under oaks. He wondered how the tree could "utter joyous leaves without a friend, a lover, near." He knew he could not. That old snippet returned to me as I read your poem. Sometimes poems become memories as well as the other way around. Yours are memorable.
Sleepless nights sometimes bring nice surprises ... thank you so much for this lovely comment.
An incredibly sweet essence is felt by the reader in this piece. As if I could actually feel your emotion. Thank you.
Thank you so much, Bill. I love reading your comments.
It is pleasant to think of such a place.
Thank you ...
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