A Walk at Dusk: A Cento
There are cemeteries that are lonely:
the leaves flutter drily
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
falling, and rising again, never shaken,
so inconsequential you barely notice it.
[1] Pablo Neruda, "Nothing But Death"
[2] William Carlos Williams, "Approach of Winter"
[3] Anne Sexton, "The Truth the Dead Know"
[4] Ross Gay, "Prayer for My Unborn Niece or Nephew"
[5] Ai, "Conversation"