The Garden Of People

The tranquil winds murmur beneath the church steeples
bending grass blades in grief over gardens of people

each furrow's well-tended, irrigated with tears
every plot marked by stones, with the name and the years

here lies: Daisy, and Rose, and Poppy, and Mum
near a Jack-In-The-Pulpit, Now resting His tongue

Here lies: Babies Breath wilted, and nearby Sweet William
Oh, how Holly, and Heather's cheeks once glowed Vermillion

Black-eyed Susan, and Violet, Alfalfa, and Hazel
Olive, and Myrtle, Timothy, and Sweet Basil

Belladonna, and Lily, Marguerite, and dear Iris
Near a Wandering Jew who was felled by a virus

Here's Veronica, Ginger, Sweet Pepper, and Jasmine
over Solomon's Seal, Bleeding Hearts mourn what has been

Here Wormwood surrounds each Old-Man-In-The-Spring
Bugleweeds blow out taps, Birds-Of-Paradise sing

Walk softly dear mortals, with your Bittersweet thoughts
where Bluebells toll silent, over Forget-Me-Nots

For whatever men plant in the depths of Earth's womb
God will soon resurrect, and again they may bloom

Thus the winds murmur gently beneath the church steeples
over harvests forthcoming in the gardens of people.