Lee Evans

“I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath
dealt bountifully with me.” Psalms 13:6

Her long dead voice, when the computer mouse
Clicked on the aria upon the screen,
Rose from the speakers to my ears, careened
Through the cochlea of time. Laid in a house
By absent hands interred, her shrunken corpse
Lay dreamless underneath a slab of stone,
Two miles away. I listened, and the tones
Evoked for me her image dim and close.

The plot was girdled with a wrought iron fence,
The marble chiseled with a cypress tree
Set in a circle under a verse from Psalms
That spelled her gratitude to ages hence.
The flora stirred with springtime mild and calm.
All times and places were as one to me.


Oak Grove Cemetery
Bath, Maine