Sights in a Graveyard

My eyelids shy away.
There is too much to see.

The headstone sinks closer to the body below.
Which one is prettier?

The trees are alight with a fire that does not burn.
Some flames have already run their course.

Only the tall stones cast convincing shadows.
The small ones lean towards them in reverence.

Trees of the same height stand side by side.
Their branches mingle, and spar for sunlight.

The sun shines on those who no longer feel.
It warms those who still feel for them.

Comic relief in the ocean of death.
Bonebreaker fell from a tree, died.

Roots break open a buried casket.
Life brushes old bones once more.

Base of a 318 year old trunk wrinkles and cracks.
A 65 year old man sees his reflection.

Even the trees have learned to cry.
Taught by centuries of hurting souls.