The Lexington Cemetery
833 W Main St, Lexington, KY
It’s very personal, how you die.
Grief is not linear; it has no timeline.
When you don’t grasp the value of presence, when you’re not truly paying attention, then everything becomes a surprise.
Not all signs need to flash; sometimes, it’s barely a whisper, yet you heard it.
If you don’t listen to what’s unfolding, your experience, in general, is limited.
I hope my grave in the cemetery has a beaten path.
11 thoughts on "The Lexington Cemetery"
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The pauses within the lines already create a nice rhythm to the poem, but I love how they also accentuate the flowing power of the fourth and seventh lines. Very nice work.
Thanks! It’s great to know that the rhythm and flow came across, especially in the lines you mentioned. I was aiming for that dynamic, so your feedback is really validating. Thanks!
A touching and poignant poem. The last line makes me wonder what path will be near me.
I really like the feeling of this
” ; sometimes, it’s barely a whisper, yet you heard it.” Wonderful. Nice to read you again.
A small thing but I really like the semicolon there. Its a whisper.
I’m really glad you picked up on the semicolon being a whisper. That makes me very happy. You always seem to catch the details in my poems, thank you Coleman!
I love the finality of the last line. It puts an exclamation point on this effective and punchy poem.
I revel in old cemeteries more than in the commercial venues of modern day machinists.
The most beautiful place in Lexington! Thanks for honoring it.
Very interesting thoughts on death- loved it.
I love the concept of the beaten path there. Cemeteries don’t have to be tragic or scary places. They can be full of wonder, pleasant places to visit.
I like the marriage between the first and last line.