Lamia

The lady bade me linger for awhile
Beside the cypress in the burying-yard.
She fetched me to a graveside with her smile
And set me on a marker cold and hard.
She smiled. It all comes down to this, you know,
That kings and merchants, each the same,
Will sleep as brothers is a marble row
Till mosses blanket over each proud name.
I shivered mid-November air breathed chill
And I looked down at my watch. The hour was late.
I said, However much I d like to listen still,
My appointment scheduled in the village cannot wait.
She smiled and begged my pocket-knife from me,
Then carved my name upon the cypress tree.
12-10-90 (04-18-80 Lamia)