Sonntag, 29. Mai 2011

The forgotten Grave


After a hundred years
Nobody knows the place,--
Agony that enacted there,
Motionless as peace.

Weeds triumphant ranged,
Strangers strolled and spelled
At the lone orthography
Of the elder dead.

Winds of summer fields
Recollect the way,--
Instinct picking up the key
Dropped by memory.

Emily Dickinson

Foto: Irland 2006

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