Père Lachaise

Rain falls, soft, light
Dampening paths where
Famous bodies rest,

Leaves gone,
Branches exposed
Like souls

Monuments crumbled.
Only rubble, rocks,
A single rose

Time marked
By footsteps along
Wet trails, paths

Debris, now snapshots
Writers, painters, artists
Extraordinary, sublime

These dead in Paris
Honored with tombs,
Fallen among the rest

Crumbled lives
Never to be again
Scattered like leaves.