Down Flowing One May Lay

Where she there
In catacomb
Vail upon her.

Candles all dim
Arms neatly, cold, ivory case
Blessings, handed, on,
And still knelt, across, springs crisping blossoms, darken and fade.

Lightly place ones linens across her breast,
Fingers cross the face,

Eyes to the darker corners of limestone etchings, as stillness breaths deep,
Hailing, the settling dusts upon the still lips and ghost caught cheeks.

Here stifles all hurrah, one will moves a passerby as in silent hymn