White Tulips
Making fun among the tombs,
Crumbling marble shake-shakes for shame.
Dry bones gaze up, on carefree bodies
Frolicking upon the grass.White tulips crane
Graceful necks, framed by slender green,
From vases placed on graves
That mark the silent,
Monuments that mourn
The passed.
Spirited love
Warms
Still souls
Hearts beat
Beneath the
Soil’s skin
Tap-
Tapping
Crocus
From
Frozen
Earth.
Joy
Pastels
This
Place
At
Last.
Stacy Peterson