The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
"The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay."
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.
Often, we find poems written in response to events, pictures, and other writings . Today, let's reverse this and write a story based on a poem. Read Robert Frost's "In a Disused Graveyard" above, mull it over a bit or write spontaneously, and give us a bit of Flashy Fiction based on this poem.
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