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Passing Through a Graveyard
Marred old friends whose breath has passed
Are cold friends whose breadth I pass.
Some I pray they pray for me.
Some they pray I pray them free.
Hewn in granite where was wrought
Endings lest they be forgot.
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Robert Nachtegall is an operations director in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has also published in The Imaginative Conservative and Agape Review.
When this poem sinks in, it really sinks in. This is not graveyard humor, but rather graveyard straight talk, etched in granite. How will we be remembered?
Thank you C.B.
Poignant reminder of past trips to a cemetery. Thank you for the heartfelt thoughts.
Thanks Bob. I’ve always appreciated cemeteries. They’re wonderful places for reflection.
Poignant piece, Robert.
I like the way the poem with its title looks like a squat gravestone.
Thanks for the read.
Thanks Paul. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Robert, I had a college professor who once told a class that, to gain perspective on life, he would walk through a graveyard and read the headstones or markers. He said that this helped him understand that one day all the things he thought were so important will be over and forgotten.
Thanks for the poem!
Thanks Rusty. I too have spent many hours walking graveyards. I find them good reminders of the brevity of life and to make good use of the time remaining.
Admirably paired lines, Robert. We are soon to pass into that privileged time not to forget those in need, but pray them free.
Thank you for the kind words Margaret.
I’ve been a visitor for some time on SCP and always admired your work. It resonates a profound faith I hope to learn from.
Thank you for this, Robert. I greatly appreciate knowing it, and hope for interaction here at the Society in the future.