Memorial Of Life

By Stephen Cheney

Across the street and into Hyde Park
I float-walk and meet grass,
For this park is without walls until
You reach the crags of glass-tiled buildings.

From the helmet of the Anzac Memorial,
Stretch neatly planned the rows of Cyprus trees,
And they spear from the air the cool of night;
Unlit candles of perished souls.

The city lights are bright and stabbing,
The city faces are dark and evasive;
Only the children run to embrace
The friskiness of the merry leaves.

(Image: Hyde Park, London - Camille Pissarro)

[The views expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of Dissecting Society]


  1. Hi Cheney,

    Once again, a superb poem. Although the scene occurs at night, you can feel yourself invaded by the light in it (it's as if a Light is guiding the steps of the subject). Hyde Park is a beautiful park, I love it too.


  2. Olá, Stephen!
    This poem is as mysterious as life itself: puzzling!

  3. Wonderful imagery though mysterious. Who is waiting for who in the end of the Park?

  4. A meeting in the Park "I reach...". Everybody is alert, following the tiny details around them. Only children play freely, without minding the perilous events taking place. Very well crafted a poem, Stephen, thanks.

  5. Much better than ememten thing! This poem took me back to when I met my boyfriend in a park, somewhere in a civilized world! Very beautiful, Stephen.


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