it's one door swinging open, it's one door swinging close...we're holding on and letting go - holding on and letting go; ross copperman

graveyard roads

road divisions are like
plots in graveyards,
leaving tracks and
mementos of movement

gradual gravel sinks into
the bodies (souls?) leaving
a piece of the journey
on the road like the

ones who travelled to
commemorate their
loved ones, scattering
flowers and petals across

the cross, what remains
of these stems, the cigarette
buds thrown out car windows,
pre-existing before the flowers;

blowing out candles, putting out
cigarettes with feet, what
remains are ashes drifting
down pedestrian crossings