We are laying with the dead

She, and cat, and i

Is it laying or lying?

I don’t care.

We have walked among tombstones

They poke from the dry earth

Like jagged, irregular white teeth

Stained with the decades

Here is a girl just two months old

Asleep now for 141 years

Next to her father who joined her

Five years after at 34

We are laying with the dead

So quiet in the late summer morn

There is the sky above our heads

With curious clouds watching us

As we sit shaded beneath trees

Lost in personal reveries

She, and cat, and i