Went to the grave
this past Memorial Day
and saw it was covered
with mud.
With but a dish rag,
maintenance
didn't exactly leave a shine
behind them, walking
away as they massaged
their own aching backs.
Otherwise they could,
I don't know,
massage the backs that
are already broken.
"Don't graveyards have
maintenance-people for that?"
They are humble.
They like not to be known.
Finally write a poem a couple days ago. I'm back!