The slope is too steep for horse or mule, the steps too narrow for planting. On Memorial Day the whole hillside is a riot of flowers, cards, toys, fond memories. Headstones worn by rain and wind, toppled by roots of growing trees.
Graves sink in as coffins and contents rot, leave cavities in the earth.
A ten foot tall tree grows in the middle of the baby's wrought iron fence. A Small Garlic Press. All rights reserved.