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.