MAGPIE/ Prompt #38

                                            photo/ willow/ magpie tales

SKILL

It's a skill, my father said,
as he engraved,
with fastidious dignity,
the formal letters
on the headstone.

We have done so in our family
since Pope Clement
avoided the plague.

I accepted that I had a talent
with granite,
a serenity
when I grasped the rondel
to carve an angel
on the stone,

then chisel an inventory
of Gothic letters
to mark the day.

Flesh and bones
already boxed and banded,
set below,
sealed in midnight forever.

Time begins a silent race
and who's to know
if stone or bones
will be the first
to crumble into dust.


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