CEMETERY

This is the last time she said, as we parked by shadowed trees in night by brick cemetery wall

and why does it have to be the last time, when i would walk barefoot on icy tundra for you

or walk hot coals the same and oh this is a gift she says, then lets go and over wall so easy in the dark

and looming marble angels over graves, with urns holding dead flowers then this one she says

and we are together like so many lovers here in the place of the dead for this last time she says

and i would have followed her anywhere, even here.