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The Cemetery

Like monasteries of old, you,
lie perched on a hillside near the village
You are mysterious, somber & silent
yet there are no huge carved

Wooden doors flung open wide
to welcome weary travelers,
And you offer no bowl of soup
made from scraps garnered by begging friars

Your guests have no need of nourishment, only rest
I walk among your grey marble stones
to find names of neighbors, friends and family
I long to talk with them, see them, touch them

To share precious memories
You give me only cold statistics
born, died, father, child & wife
I cry in agony

You saints in this holy hospice
Can you not join me in a prayer,
a hymn or a final plea
One day I shall accept your hospitality

For I too will be in need of rest
I shall enter the open grave
like your soundless monks
Understand the mystery perpetrate the somberness maintains the silence

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


the essence of a hilltop graveyard very well.
If it were me, I'd have two poems from this. One, the graveyard and its occupants without your feelings and thought. I'd put these in a separate poem.
Third word last stanza - should be too?
Some great atmosphere.

Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

maybe I spoke too soon
I now have a big ol' foot in my mouth
this is quite an "elegant" poem
easy to read, and quite moving.

it stays on target, keeping the reader involved

I am very impressed

I thought it important to express this you you because of my previous comment
I am humbled to have been proven wrong,



That final field where we all are planted. I liked this right up to that last line. I think you tried to put too much content into one long line but if you really concentrate of your intent I'm sure you can say the same with fewer words and this poem Deserves a better ending line don't you think?.....stan

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