listens to the relatives of the dead
at funerals and burials.
He tries to get a feel for who each person was.
Then, later at night, he visits each grave,
telling the innocent they are still wonderful people.
He sings lullabies to the little children,
even tries to give everyone an update on their family,
When he can.
The Gravedigger is very patient.
The souls appreciate him greatly.
They love the old man.
God is still a bit unsure of him.
And the Devil thinks he’s a riot.
But when it rains,
when it thunders,
when the wind moves showing its teeth,
The Gravedigger visits different graves.
He visits the graves
of wicked men and wicked women.
These nights, with haunting fury,
he curses them down,
cuts them apart with his words,
screams “Murder” over them
and reminds them how they are hated.
With confidence, the Gravedigger glares at their stones,
by his side – the rain and thunder.
These are the nights that the Devil climbs up.
And crawls atop each tombstone.
He stays through the night,
drinking bottle after bottle of blood wine.
the thunder claps,
the Devil choruses the Gravedigger with laughter
once he’s lit from the wine.
Screams. Screams. And screams.
The two point jagged fingers.
The two rage murder.
And souls scream horribly back.
It is punishment.
It is horror.
It is nothing you want to see.
So visit when you will,
but the graveyard is not the place to enter,
when it rains, when it pours, when thunder claps.
Best leave it alone.