A Poem by Brian Le Lay
The evening burned around the edges.
Sunshine scathed our retinas.
We walked the cemetery paths.
With too much inertia, our eyes
Caught fire, and our hair.
We were visiting relatives
None of us having written letters,
Or wielding white flowers
Wrapped in napkins, or golden
Tourniquets, but shock when we saw
The headstone with identical
Birth and death dates.