It’s beautiful here, you realize.

After a run through the cemetery

You discover a secret route

Where three stony mausoleums

Are tucked into the hill.

With doors tarnished turquoise

The roofs a weathered grey

Surrounded by spindled branches

And crushed dandelions,

You peer into the safe.

A window

In the shape of a spade

Looking into the regal grave.

All there is

Is blackness.

No trembling ghost

Or guardian raccoon.

Soon enough you hike up the trail

Return to your jog

Return to your world.


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