A hazy day out over the bay,
Smoke mixed with mist riffles the waves.
This could be any other day,
But my mind can’t free them from their graves.
We see them littered here about,
On highway straights and tight sharp bends.
Some killed themselves or drunken louts,
Dispatched them to a fatal end.
The sites are marked; a sullen cross,
To memorialize a family’s grief,
I wonder if their sudden loss,
Is soothed by their religious belief?
The Christian cross, is all I see.
God sees beyond those churchy pews.
He stoops from high to lift all three
Muslim, Jew and Buddhist too
When will there be roadside commemorations of deaths marked by other than a cross? thehobartchinaman promises to put no effort into this campaign
Just a thought.