No Job in Boneyard

Wander the lonely boneyard
Speculate upon the dates
Ponder the similar names
Read the poetic eulogies.

Who was that extra name?
Relation? friend? or lover?
All at peace, all quiet
Save for the crow’s raucous call,
Toll of bell in church tower
Rust screech of lych-gate.

So what was their work?
Who the manager?
Who the menial?
All that fret and toil
All lost to worms and soil

No jobs here to see
Just name, just dates
Like a skeletal CV
Etched in stone, tablet hard
But no jobs in our boneyard.

Martin Delemare
30th November 2008

La Tormenta

Still and hot
Hotter still
The land awaits
All falls silent.

Wind stirs the needle pines
Wind cools the stifling air
Dark cloud upon the hill
Black cloud looms above.

Flash across the darkened sky
Trees sway in freshened breeze
Boom of thunder echoes wide.

Spots fall upon the dust
Water upon the arid land.

Electric blue across the sky
Forks reach out, whitening
And with the roar above
Rains the torrent down.

Copyright ©2008
Martin Delemare
23rd August 2008