Odour. Fragrance. Soil.

the soil of the cemetery smells like petrichor,
despite the caresses underneath.
the fragrance of death,
rises like smoke from the ground,
to interrupt our stream of breaths.
and for a moment we stop to breathe,
to listen to death preach.
“the grave is silent
because when people die, they rest in peace.
heaven or hell
i may not tell
but I know God and the devil live there,
a step after here.’
and so we all leave (live) quietly,
after death’s sermon.

tochi