New Mexico Mountain Graveyard...A Poem



In a high mountain graveyard,

All is silent save the wind

And two flags slapping,

Halyards whipping clips

Against the metal poles

Like clappers of twin bells.


Two soldiers lie here, ever

Eighteen and seventy-two.

Waving grass and raven's nest

Define their final resting place

With other iris-covered graves

And tilted wooden crosses.


Jesus reaches white-robed arms

To bless the Rio Grande.


Copyright by Don Gray


Don Gray Art  •  Poems