The Old Graveyard

The Old Graveyard

By Robin Lee Shelby

Along the banks of Bayou Noir

There sits a verdant piece of land

Bordered by young cypress trees

And filled with flowers of many kinds

Flowers that sit in concrete vases

That lay by whitewashed tombs

On small lots that are side by side

In long rows from end to end

Here the village founders lie

Resting from their labors

Here too lay those who came

To live on and work the land

Each headstone tells a tale

Of life and love and hopes

Some are long, some are brief

But all tell of the one who lies beneath

In that verdant lot there reside

Many of our kin

And we know that the day will come

When we too will reside there with them

History has many tales to tell

Of nations that rise and fall

But many more tales are told

In the tombs of the old graveyard