January 1, 2016

Beneath the Slate Grey Sky by Richard Schnap

Death is not solely
Reserved for the dying
It wears a thousand
Faces in the world

Like the woman I saw
Alone in a cemetery
Kneeling by a grave
On a cold winter day

She seemed to be speaking
Words in a language
That only the one
Lying buried would know

And when she rose up
To walk away slowly
I could see in her eyes
That she was buried too

Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.