More Mere Being

A cemetery’s no place
For ghosts, apart from the names
And numbers on the gravestones.

A cemetery without
Visitors is as empty
As an abandoned ruin,

The stump of a ziggurat,
A roofless monastery,
The mound of an ancient tell.

Its as good as wilderness
For solitude, or better,
Wilderness being parkland.

The bodies here are being
Merely existence again.