Embalming buried corpses, stained in earth
and clay, exhuming rooted knuckle bones,
upending bits of afterlife, a dearth
of animated moss and stones —
Recall the body, once inscribed by men
as beauty manifest, divine in form.
And now, decaying muscle disheartens
the thought of loving something once so warm.
In life, affection followed her unsought.
In death, attention failed to spill a tear
Of blessed worms and scabs and must and rot —
of that, their fleeting veneration veered.
— the gravedigger evoked this anecdote,
as he uncovered ancient brains and bloat.
© 2017 Stellular Scribe