Fading stones

Solace to roam amongst the stones

with faded sentiments of love

or some simple record of each span spent,

and weighing whether ageing cups

hidden here in hardened soil

if not to the brim

held a while suffice to sip

til partly drunk on life's deep draught

and weren't forever dry.

Or worse perhaps, if broken shards

once bright and whole

now scattered by a careless hand

lie beneath the gate-side Yew,

mislaid in spreading nettle,

and long since lost to all.

Yes, slight comfort in soft imagined sighs

and whispers from the stretching past,

pressing ears to catch reproach

for what was lost by all within

though lives on yet

in fleeting gasps

by fools above

with fragile grails,

but time enough to drink.