Cemetery in the woods

In the considerable patch of woods

between the condominium complex and the outlets

up on a hill

a small graveyard

we sometimes traveled to as freshly barmitzvahed boys


one body after the other 

though I can’t remember now if there was a trail

my friend Joey would have been in front with a flashlight

my hands on the shoulders of the boy in front of me


the graves were a mile or so from where we entered 

and they

bore the names of our Long Island towns

Hewlett, Merrick, etc

the oldest read 1789

in those days we were too busy scaring the shit out of each other to concern ourselves with history
I remember once one of Joey’s older brother’s friends
lying down on a stone marker that had been toppled 
I watched him light a cigarette after he sat up
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2 thoughts on “Cemetery in the woods

  1. Bruce Goodman says:

    You are still alive – thank goodness! The poem resonates with me like you wouldn’t believe. A great gift you have…

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