Black granite wedges
foreshortened like these lives
shoulder aside the swale's green
paper wreaths flowering green
Viet Nam yellow red yellow red
carnation stems between the slabs
impale a name
twisting metal crutches,
scraping pavement,
shuffling slow, seeking out
the slabs of years and names
two children and a man
(father, uncle, brother of the dead?)
rubbing pencil lead
against paper
to make a name mainfest
stooping to right cardboard signs
wind has flipped
memory cannot shelter
from the wind of death
nor incising names expunge pain
bring back the lost
the greatest longevity here
belongs to folly
these whose names
testify on these black stones
have paid the artist for her work
Previously published in the North Carolina Poetry Society's
"Award Winning Poems, 2000"
Used with the permission of the Poet.
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