Open Graves in Spring

A mausoleum looms like a cottage
on the cemetery lawn. Behind, a forest
stretches wide as a yawn, prepares
to swallow stone by stone the wall
and the path leading from road to gate.
To the tomb, this cemetery is a next-door
neighbor. Rain arrives in early spring.
The dead emerge from within earth,
chauffeured in coffins for a garden party.
Two ravens play croquet with the ribcage
of a stranger. An owl, like a prince, scolds
a peasant to his skull. The scavengers,
foxes and coyotes in aprons of fur, sweep
away the clutter, keep the lawn from disorder.
And the land rises again from the grave.

***

Ruth Towne is a graduate of the Stonecoast MFA program. Her work has recently appeared in WOMEN. LIFE., a special issue of Beyond Words Literary Magazine, and Monsoons: A Collection of Poetry by Poet’s Choice Publishing. She has forthcoming publications with Black Spot Books, Inlandia Publishing, NiftyLit, and Drunk Monkeys.