Passing by Polloe/A Slice of Life.
On the top of the hill
crickets hop and chirp
around the entrance of Polloe,
emulating miniature guard dogs –
their barks sounding as silence
when the living stroll by.
Strong but naive spring flowers
rise up through the cracks
in the concrete.
Etched into the sturdy sandstone
entrance of Polloe Cemetery
a message in Spanish roughly
translates to:
‘Soon they will say about you
what they say about us –
they died!’
Sometimes it feels like the dead
are as talkative
as the living –
but if you talk to the dead enough,
after a while you’ll only
hear them say one thing –
live.
Come lunch warm aromas
are carried up the hill
from the pizzeria and each day
they only serve one pizza,
but each day also
brings a totally different pizza.
Some slices may contain
traces of déjà vu.
About the Author: Gwil James Thomas is a novelist, poet and inept musician originally from Bristol, England. He’s recently been published in The Bees are Dead, GOB zine, Expat Press, Paper & Ink and The Dope Fiend Daily. His sixth poetry chapbook Cocoon Transitions is available here. He currently lives in San Sebastián, Northern Spain.’
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Image Credit: Willoughby Wallace Hooper “Cemetery, Secunderabad” (1870) Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program.
As It Ought To Be 