North Burial Ground, Providence, RI

Driving through the gates Of this sleeping place, We pass potter’s field and turn up the hill Dotted with flat, tipped stones Toward the Armenian section. When Yankee names turn Greek We know we’re close to the place Where an underground suite holds Bone and dust in separate boxes Capped by granite dotted with moss and lichen That we scrape off with our shoes. We run away down a hill and move among graves, Alert for ancient letters that form names Ch