The View

Taking some time in a local cemetery on a lovely evening. As the day comes to a close in a place like that, one's mind turns to timeless stuff.

The View

From where I am I can
see the Luberon Mountains
just ten miles away.
Between us are mature magnolias,
some hemlocks, various pines,
and an olive grove.

On this spring evening
several men are pulling weeds,
mowing, trimming branches,
muttering about roots
and deciding the fate of
a decrepit bench.

The traffic is faint enough
to hear pigeons cooing
about their various
nesting situations.
Soon the swallows
will dash about,
having hurriedly departed
the power lines.

The setting sun glints
off the newer headstones,
shining like gold
but for those of us 
in the old section,
we lost our sheen decades ago
but the view never gets old.

L’Isle-5/23