About a mile from Tintagle,
on the cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea
is a stone church, far from anything,
with a tiny graveyard full
of nameless graves.
Souls of substance
if the artwork on each stone
is to be believed,
perhaps so beloved
no one thought they would ever
And yet, here we are,
in admiration of the sculptor’s art
more than the bones beneath the soil.
About this poem
There really is a lovely little stone church near Tintagle, the legendary birthplace of King Author on the western coast of Cornwall, England. I have been there three times now, and I’d go again if I had the chance. it is one of half a dozen places I have traveled to where I felt enchanted by.
This grave however, is just outside Salem, NY.